


Soul of a Druid

by silverlysilence



Series: Heart of a Dragon's Soul [1]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Druids, M/M, Magic, Mortal Jack Frost, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Side of Romance, Slow Build HiJack, Time Travel, Vikings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:06:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 50
Words: 287,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5555366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverlysilence/pseuds/silverlysilence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Frost thought he knew who he was, a protector of the children and the Guardian of Fun.  However, a little mishap and a chance meeting with a Disir had everything he thought he knew thrown out of perspective.  Now, not only does he have to deal with finding out what has happened to him while finding a way home, but he is also having to deal with learning about who he had been; who  Jackson Overland had been. On top of all that, he had to do everything while trying to go unnoticed by the Vikings and have you ever meet him?  Subtlety was not a quality he possessed. </p><p>Oh, and did he mention the dragons?  Because there were dragons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Setting of a New Era

**Author's Note:**

> I have been working on this story since HTTYD 2 came out with the full intention of adding Jack to the movie. It was only supposed to be ten, maybe fifteen chapters at the most. Now I've got about thirty chapters unedited with the plans for a few more and I've yet to even reach the movie. So, since I seem to be stuck with a bout of writer's block, I thought I would start editing what I did have and slowly start to post the finished chapters.
> 
> Also, I have no beta and though I may be editing it as I go along, I tend to read the story how I thought I wrote it. Hence, there will be grammatically and spelling errors which I would appreciate them being pointed out to me (nicely please and thank you).
> 
> On another note, if there are any additional tags that would be appropriate for this story, please tell me. I try not to put too many to the point I spoil the story but sometimes I don't put enough, so it would be very much appreciated. With that, I leave you to go read and review once you're finished (please and thank you).

Earth has always been a peculiar planet; so unlike any of the planets and constellations in the long forgotten Golden Ages. There were – and still are – many varieties of cultures and people on Earth. All with their own ideals and traditions which clashed with one another in a way that it should have been impossible for them to coexist on one planet. Societies with dissimilar principles from one another gave rise to conflicts which were rooted in fear. In a way, it was because humans have the tendency to fear what they do not understand and that fear extended to anything that was different.

However, the very same humans, who would fight and wage war against what was different from them, could change over time. More importantly, they did change. Earth and its people were unique in that aspect as they were constantly changing, growing, evolving. Unlike those of the Golden Ages, the people of Earth’s shorter lifespans led to radical differences compared to the long lifespans of the beings in the Golden Ages.

Humans ideals often transformed, their cultures shifted, and their opinions reversed as their future becomes the present and then moved on to the past with each generation. New ideas replaced old outdated traditions and some cultures had changed so radically, they had all but been destroyed; only to be replaced with newer, improved versions which begot modern day life. Yet, despite the new developments, the differences still set humans apart from one another and kept the wars waging on.

Nevertheless, no matter where in the world one could go, all those on Earth and in the Golden Ages had one thing in common. They all  _ believed _ .They weren’t the same beliefs, no, the Golden Ages were too different from Earth and humans themselves all had different beliefs depending on their cultures and societies. The people of Earth believed in their own god or gods, their own myths, their own legends, some of which were remnants of the once powerful Golden Ages.

Granted, nothing on Earth was set in stone. The progress of science and technology explained away gods and goddesses with their “divine” acts and instead attributed them to natural occurrences and phenomena. The magic of the world was pushed aside as petty sleight of hand or illusions. Some scientist went as far as replicating magic to an extent through technological advancements.

In spite of everything, humans held onto their beliefs. Maybe not as strongly as they once did, but they still believed. Even in modern time belief was very popular. Some areas in the world had their own unique folklore and myths which had stood up to the test of time while other places adopted their legends from older civilizations but had their own versions. One such place was a small town in Pennsylvania named Burgess after Thaddeus Burgess, who built his log cabin there before the bitter winter of 1795.

The youth of Burgess had taken the underappreciated myth of Jack Frost and had given it new life. Even though most of the adults of the town knew the legend originated from Anglo-Saxon and Norse winter customs, the children had come up with a new tale about Jack Frost. None of them could correct the children of the town about the true origins of the Winter Spirit. Not when the tale spread throughout the town children like wildfire over the last few years and had become  _ the _ most popular schoolyard story. Even if any parent did try to correct their child, none would listen and in turn, the child would inform them of their version of Jack Frost.

To the children, Jack Frost was an adolescent boy who lived in Burgess during the time of the first colonists. He wasn’t a winter sprite or elf as the Anglo-Saxon and Norse myths had depicted him as. No, the children of Burgess insisted Jack Frost lived a normal life as a simple boy who had a love for games before he became something more. How the simple young colonist had become Jack Frost was where the story got a bit sketchy from the countless retellings in the schoolyards and playgrounds. The gist of the lore was humble in that after a selfless act, the young boy had become more than human one winter night. He had become Jack Frost.

How exactly Jack Frost became immortal was up to much debate and speculation among the children. However, there were seven children in Burgess who didn’t have to speculate. They knew the truth without a doubt and it was something they weren’t going to tell. It was way too personal, because it was not only the tale of Jack Frost’s birth but the extremely personal account of Jackson Overland’s death. None of the seven were going to divulge that information since their belief in Jack Frost was unwavering and their loyalty to him was even stronger.

The reason for the unwavering belief and loyalty was that the older of the two Bennett siblings had been Jack Frost’s first believer. However, that is another story altogether, reserved for a separate sitting. This story is not only of Jack Frost, but the beginning of the myth of Jokul Frosti. Our story begins on one cold fall afternoon in a quaint two story house where one Emma Bennett was herding her two children out the door.

“Why does Mom send us outside every time Dad calls?” little Sophia Bennett asked around the knitted cap hanging from her teeth as she pulled on a yellow and green raincoat which clashed horribly with her white spotted blue pants and pink galoshes. Once the raincoat was secure, the young child took her multicolored knitted cap from her mouth and pulled it over uneven locks of blond hair which perpetually covered the emerald green color of her right eye.

Brown eyes rolled as larger callused hands batted small hands away and worked on pulling the child’s knitted cap on correctly. Once finished, James Bennett resumed zipping up his red vest over his white long sleeved shirt before crouching down to check if his blue jeans were tucked safely inside his own red galoshes.

“Because, Mom doesn’t want us to hear what a lying sack of sh-ouff,” the older of the two siblings was interrupted when a perfectly round snowball hit him squarely in the face, causing him to stumble backwards. His foot slipped on an out-of-season patch of ice that sent him tumbling to the ground before a whole blanket of snow fell on top of him. The preteen was completely covered in snow save for a few strands of brown hair.

There was a momentary pause, before Sophie burst out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter as her brother surged out of the snow pile. His brown eyes swept the area before settling in a wavering glare on a figure behind his sister. The lanky teenager was dressed in a blue hooded jacket with one hand tucked inside the hoodie pocket while his right hand held loosely onto a gnarled staff. Tattered brown threadbare trousers which were not suitable for the chilly weather and had to be bound from the knees down with leather cord to kept the fabric from unraveling even more covered the teen’s legs. The snow covered burnet wasn’t annoyed by the other’s appearance; it was the casual way in which the teen leaned against the gnarled shepherd’s crook with a mischievous smirk that had the pinched expression forming on Jamie’s face.

“Tut, tut, tut, Jamie, lang~uage,” the teenager chastised in a sing song tone, wagging his finger back and forth which only intensified the glare coming from those brown eyes. However, no matter how hard Jamie tried to force himself to continue his death stare at the young teenager, he found his lips twitching upwards as unbidden laughter bubbled up inside him. It was inevitable that laughter would come out. Jamie knew resistance was futile and gave in. Flopping back into the already melting snow, the young boy burst out laughing just as loud as his sister.

Soon the laughter began to subside and a pale hand was held out, offering Jamie a hand up and the brunet grasped the hand as a few stray chuckles passed his lips. Jamie was abruptly lifted up, his body feeling weightless for a few seconds before his feet touched the ground once again. The boy wasted no time in propelling himself forward towards the older teenage boy for a tackling hug. He could hear the air being knocked out of his victim as the two fell to the ground, but the laughter never subsided.

“Jack!” Jamie exclaimed between renewed bursts of laughter, looking up from his position on top of the teenager’s stomach and straight into striking blue eyes that were shadowed by the hood of older boy’s jacket. “What are you doing here?”

The words were barely out of the young boy’s mouth before another shrill of excitement was heard and another body piled up on top of two boys.

“Jack!” Sophie squealed worming her way next to her brother so the siblings were settled on top of the teenager. “We’ve missed you!”

“I’ve missed you two, too,” Jack chuckled, wrapping his arms around the two children for a tight bear hug. The staff in his right hand put a slight pressure against Jamie’s head, but the boy didn’t care. He and his sister could only laugh in exuberance as a sudden gust of wind whipped around them, lifting the three from the ground as if they were nothing but feathers in a breeze.

Jack swung the Bennett siblings around in the air, his hold on them was light but secure as they created a small wind vortex in the family’s backyard. Leaves were pulled from the tree and snow from the ground due to the slight vacuum, swaying around the trio as they spun fast enough to force the teen’s hood from his head to reveal an angular face and snow white hair. Soon, they steadily decelerated before their feet slowly came to rest on the ground once more.

“So how are my two favorite children today?” Jack Frost, the resident spirit of Burgess and one of the Five Guardian of Childhood, inquired.

“Good,” Sophie chirped, as Jack twirled her around with his left hand like a ballerina, “Especially now that our favorite Guardian is here.”

Jamie, trying to take advantage of Jack’s momentary distraction, slipped out of the Guardian of Fun’s hold and gathered up the snow that had made its way down his vest. Compressing together what little snow was left; the ten year old child took careful aim and threw it at the white haired boy. Without looking, Jack scooped up Sophie in his arms and effortlessly side-stepped the snow, causing the young girl in his arms to giggle.

“Your favorite Guardian?” the eternal teenager asked, unfazed by the pitiful excuse for a snowball. His voice was unusually high as he imitated shock as he made his blue eyes comically wide. “I thought Bunny was your favorite.”

“Nope, you are,” Sophie said giving Jack a small peck on his cheek as the teenager dodged yet another snowball coming from behind. “Just don’t tell Bunny, promise? He’d be heartbroken.”

“Promise,” the white haired teen said, kissing her on her forehead before making a snowball out of thin air and handing it to the five year old. Without any prompting, the blonde threw it at her older brother and nailed him right in the chest. Jack carelessly waved his staff around, forming another blanket of snow right over the top of Jamie and then letting gravity do the rest. The once-again-buried child popped back out of the white powder a second later with a snowball in his hand, ready for action.

However, when the young boy saw both his sister and Jack standing only a few feet away from him, both holding snowballs of their own, he wisely let his drop to the ground.

“I yield, I yield,” Jamie declared, dramatically holding his hands up in the air as a sign of surrender. He watched as emerald green eyes met striking blue and a shiver ran up his spine that wasn’t from the cold. The twin mischievous grins crossing his opponents’ faces were all the warning the boy had before two balls of snow pelted him.

“We take no prisoners!” Sophie yelled, throwing yet another snowball at Jamie and that was when the real snowball battle began. True to her words, none of them took prisoners. However, they did not remain faithful allies in combat. For just a little while into the Battle of the Backyard, the little girl teamed up with her brother and the Bennett siblings combined their forces against Jack Frost.

It was a grueling battle, snow slush everywhere as the mild temperatures of the fall warmed the little piece of winter Jack brought. Underhanded tactics were used, including forcing snow down the back of enemy’s shirts and blatant disrespect for the laws of physics as snowballs were redirected in mid-flight.

After a half an hour of harsh combative conditions, the trio called a truce after collapsing in various spots on the ground around the backyard.

“You never answered my question,” Jamie said in between deep breaths, not caring at all about the snow melting in his hair; it actually felt quite nice against his heated skin.

“What question was that?” the immortal teenager asked, his blue eyes closed as he enjoyed the rustling of the breeze passing by, stopping long enough to ruffle his hair in greeting before continuing on its way.

Rolling over so he was propped up on his elbows, Jamie looked at the relaxed figure of the Guardian of Fun. “What are you doing here? It’s not even winter yet.”

“Do I really need a reason?” Jack countered, never once opening his eyes. Stretching out his limbs, the white haired boy rearranged his arms behind his head to find a more comfortable position.The new position, however, could not be all that comfortable in Jamie’s opinion, what with his staff digging into his head; yet the white haired teenager did seem to be bothered by it.

“Well, no,” the child replied, catching a glimpse of his sister sitting up out of the corner of his eye. “But you usually don’t visit except during the winter seasons.”

“Not true, Jack always visits us on our birthdays and mine’s in June,” Sophie pointed out. Their favorite Guardian always paid a visit to them on their birthdays, bringing them some little trinket from around the world. He never failed to show up for any of The Seven Brightest Lights of Burgess’ birthdays as Jack had dubbed the children who had stood up to Pitch. “So is Monty’s and Cupcake’s.”

“Yeah, but those are special occasions,” her brother argued back.

“So is today,” the white haired teen mumbled, halting the Bennett siblings’ tangent which then had them straining their ears to hear the next softly spoken words coming from Jack. “It’s Mabon.”

“What’s that?” the little blonde questioned, scooting closer to hear what the spirit had to say.

Opening one eye to peer closely at the two, Jack expected to see impish smiles on their faces as they tried to hold a straight face, yet all he saw was honest curiosity which had him mystified. Some days the three-hundred-eighteen year old marveled at how much the world had changed since he was a child. Honestly, even if Christianity had been the predominant religion of the colonists back in his day, they had at least heard of the Old Religion holiday that divided the day and night equally. The world was definitely a different place than it was when he was growing up. 

“It’s the Harvest Tide,” Jack tried once more. His clarification only got him one pensive look and one scrunched up nose in return. “The autumnal equinox, The Second Harvest Festival,” the spirit tried again, this time to be met with bewildered expressions resulting in a sigh escaping his lips. “You two really don’t know what I am talking about, do you?”

“Nope,” Jamie said, grinning widely. He had no inkling as to what the immortal teenager was talking about. Even so, the boy could see that whatever Mabon was, it was important to Jack and of all the places he could be today, he had chosen to spend it with them. The fact that the spirit was spending an important day with them, instead of somewhere else, had a warm feeling blooming inside of the young boy.

“Nuh-uh!” Sophie shook her head negatively, her blonde hair whipping around at the force behind the motion. She had come to the same conclusion as her brother and shared a pleased grin with Jamie.

“Well,” the Guardian of Fun grinned, swinging himself upwards and with a little help from the winds and a little ice to brace his staff to the ground, Jack had himself seated on the crook of his staff. “I guess I’ll just have to tell you the tale of Mabon and how he was rescued by King Arthur along with his manservant, the warlock in hiding, Merlin. How does that sound?”

“Awesome!” the two siblings cheered in unison. 

Two hours later, after forcefully hanging up the phone with her ex-husband, Emma wandered outside to find her children seemingly staring off out into the distance. Being mentally exhausted, the single mother let the first thought flow into her mind be her conclusion that Jamie and Sophie were watching the dark rain clouds drifting over the far off mountain range. However, if she had ever taken her own words into consideration and believed that Jack Frost could be nipping at her nose, she would have been able to see the immortal teenager resting on top of his gnarled shepherd’s crook weaving a tale with his words and frost constructed figures.

Instead, Emma called her children inside for a nice warm cup of hot chocolate. Her mind too busy reiterating her latest argument with her ex-husband that she never noticed the unusual patches of melting snow located in her backyard and nowhere else. Neither did she take notice of the way Abby, the family’s pet Greyhound, was jumping around in circles, tail wagging, and barking happily, something the dog only did when there were welcomed guests around.

Although she did notice the ramifications of Jack Frost’s visit as she tucked her children in that evening, each of them wished her a happy Mabon before settling in, which after a moment, she replied in kind.

After closing the door to Jamie’s bedroom, the single mother looked down at the large Greyhound at her feet with a raised eyebrow. “What the heck is Mabon?”

And even though Abby just wagged her tail, Emma could have sworn she heard someone laughing at her.

* * *

Jack hung around the Bennett’s house hours after the siblings had gone to sleep and the golden strands of Sanderson Mansnoozie’s Dreamsand drifted through the town of Burgess in wisps of gilded dust unimpeded by all obstacles. Gold glistened as it worked its way underneath closed doors, through partially opened windows, and in some case, through microscopic imperfections in the frameworks of the structures which only delayed the Dreamsand. Nothing could stop the glittering golden sand from reaching the children of the world; protecting their magnificent dreams and guard them from the terrors in the night. For, it was the duty of the wielder of the golden sands as a Guardian of Childhood to keep and protect the dreams of children.

Much like the Guardian of Fun, the Guardian of Dreams had a soft spot for the small town of Burgess. His Dreamsand never failed to reach it, blanketing Burgess with sweet dreams and pursuing The Seven Brightest Lights to their fullest capability. After all, they were the brave children who had held onto and pulled the Dream Guardian back from the dark recesses of Pitch Black’s nightmares. Although, if his Dreamsand spent a little extra attention on one blonde preteen who had begun to grow out of his awkward stage and had started to fill out, none of the other Guardians of Childhood ever mentioned it.

None of them could say anything, not when the Guardian of Wonder left a certain dark skinned pre-teen, who was in the habit of wearing beanies no matter what time of year, an extra present or two more than other children without checking his list twice to see if he had been naughty or nice. Nor could the Guardian of Hope point out the unfairness of having favorites when the dark skin boy’s twin brother had the best basket of assorted goodies when Easter rolled around. As for a certain teenage girl and a younger preteen girl, even if they had both long since lost all their baby teeth, they would occasionally find little trinkets left by the Guardian of Memories to brighten their day.

Granted, all the Guardians of Childhood had a soft spot for the Bennett family and equally lavished the siblings with special treatment, because Jamie had done the impossible and kept believing even when Pitch directly targeted him. As for Sophie, she was everyone’s favorite, but Jack Frost would always be her and her brother’s favorite Guardian. In return, they were always be his favorite children. Which was why when given the opportunity, Jack Frost had decided to spend the seldom celebrated holiday of Mabon with them.

The holiday was important to him. Even though all of the colonial settlers had been of the Christian faith, his mother had been a Druid by birth. She had not wanted to stand out — especially in their small settlement — which was why she had kept that part of her heritage hidden as best as she could. However, when his father was out hunting with the rest of the village men for days on end, his sister and he would huddle together under a blanket and list to their mother’s stories about the Old Religion until they fell asleep.  Mabon, while not his favorite, was one of the clearer of the batch of his most recent recovered memories he had about his life as Jackson Overland and even if he wouldn’t admit it, the Guardian of Fun had been feeling a bit melancholy.

Jack had regained a handful of his memories more than four years previously but time for the immortal moved differently. It was only now he was apprehending that his mother and sister were gone. He had the knowledge that his family had died long ago, yet it wasn’t until the recent years that it fully dawned on the spirit that could not be join them in the next life. Still, Jack worked to ward off the depression by remembering them. If he could remember his mother and sister, then they weren’t truly gone; he knew from experience that the only way people were ever gone was when they were forgotten.

This was why Jack Frost had spent autumn equinox by sharing his mother’s stories on the legend of Mabon. He had weaved additional tales of how a colonial boy and his little sister had spent the holiday creating their own Old Religion influenced traditions away from the prying eyes of the other settlers. However, the real fun had been telling Jamie and Sophie the most powerful warlock of the Old Religion stilled roamed the earth to this day, waiting for the Once and Future King to return, and watching their twin reactions of shock and awe followed by excitement at the thought they could met the Merlin.

All in all, Jack had been having a great day right up until the pastel blues and greens of artificial, magically generated Northern Lights rippled across the cloudy night sky. The young immortal had felt his muscles tighten and his hand unconsciously tighten on his staff, before launching himself in the air with a terse request to the gathered winds to take him to the North Pole. The winds promptly complied upon hearing him, not needing to hear the urgency in the typically carefree voice to know why Jack had gone rigid and cold like the winter he manipulated.

The sight of the magical Northern Lights was not to be taken lightly and Nicholas St. North did not initiate the signal whimsically. No, the Northern Lights were an indicator of major trouble and major trouble was what awaited Jack at the end of the lights. The Guardian of Fun had been expecting to face off against Pitch Black once again in another one of his attempts to rise in power. However, he had been incorrect to assume the boogeyman was the perpetrator.

No, the Guardians were in less of battle of wills and more of a battle of endurance against shadowy, humanoid figures. E. Aster. Bunnymund hadn’t even need to see the creatures attacking the hidden magical village of Santoff Claussen to get an inkling on what they were up against. They had barely reached the first barrier of the village when the six-foot-one Pooka’s ears shot straight up. His greyish-blue fur bristled, the usual markings on his fur looking more sinister than usual as he yelled about Nightmare Men before racing off.

Sandy’s short star shaped stature had become unbelievably stiff at the name and the golden cloud of Dreamsand which swirled around lazily had stopped all movements. Golden symbols made from the Dreamsand of his robe rapidly formed over the little man’s head ending in the familiar symbol. “Hurry.”

Jack had immediately flown after the racing rabbit, catching up in the clearing where The Spirit of the Forest and The Bear had been holding off the creatures to the best of their abilities. Bunny was already cutting down the creatures with his boomerangs, using a handful of his Bomber Eggs to force back the intruders along with a certain white haired spirit who had the misfortune of flying into the small clearing at that moment.

Both of the protectors of Santoff Claussen had been showing signs of fatigue, having been battling the monsters until reinforcements had responded to Ombric —the founder of Santoff Claussen — summons. However, Jack’s eyes were not focused on the weary warriors, but on the Nightmare Men. The creatures were like nothing Jack had expected to find. He had assumed they would be more humanoid versions of Pitch Black’s horse-like Nightmares made out of corrupted Dreamsand. But they were nothing like the wannabe wingless Thestral and Bunny had a reason to be alarmed at their appearance.

While Nightmare Men were shadowy, humanoid figures that easily dispersed into a cloud of smoke, they were also were relentless in their attacks. Most disturbing was that they held no sense of loyalty for each other. If a Nightmare Man had an opening at the expense of another of its comrade’s life, they would take it. Jack had been repulsed at that discovery even if it had saved one of Toothiana’s mini fairy’s lives. Tooth’s dual scimitars made short work of a wraith-like creature, which had decapitated its own ally in attempt to slaughter the fairy behind the Nightmare Man.

Still, the revelation had given the Guardian of Fun inspiration as he used the information against them. He didn’t waste his time or limited energy to freeze the Nightmare Men. Instead, he ducked, weaved, and hid behind opposing creatures as if he were playing a game of tag. Only, when a Nightmare Man missed ‘tagging’ him and hit one of their own, they wouldn’t be getting back up again.

The strategy was effective to an extent, but what none of the Guardians had counted on was the sheer volume of the Nightmare Men. There seemed to be a never ending barrage of the creatures that kept coming. No matter how many Tooth and North sliced apart with their blades, there were many more Nightmare Men eager to try their luck against their steel. Bunny had long since used up all of his Bomber Eggs and had been reduced to fighting under Tooth using his boomerangs and martial arts to save his fur.

Sandy was providing aerial support for North, his whips easily thinning the number whereas the former Russian bandit took care of the rest. As for The Bear and The Spirit of the Forest, even though they were drained that didn’t stop them from fulfilling their duty and were still fighting to protect the village. Together they picked off the few stragglers which managed to pass the Guardians. However, they were losing ground and were slowly being pushed back closer and closer to Santoff Claussen.

“North!” Tooth’s voice pierced the air as she danced about in the air. The part human, part hummingbird hybrid twirled in the air as if she were performing in some kind of exotic performance; the multi-shades of blues and greens with dashes of yellow and pink of her feathers seem more like a shimmering dress and less like they were a part of her. Her fluid dance-like motion made her attacks all the more deadly as her blades and wings alike sliced through the approaching monsters that were eager to get their attempt at killing the Tooth Fairy.

The warning came not a moment too late as the tall, buff, and — according to Bunny — a little rotund Russian brought up one of his self-forged sabers up in a jerky defensive maneuver. The motion barely intercepted the guillotining strike, saving not only North’s head, but also his long white beard.

Golden sands encircled the attacker, yanked the creature away from North, and flung it into another Nightmare Man, which had taken advantage of the white furred of The Bear’s distracted state to make a dash for the village.

“Ah, near blow. Help much appreciated Tooth,” North huffed, blue eyes meeting pink for a second before they were drawn back into their own fights. The Guardian of Wonder thrust his saber behind him, gutting one of the creatures while using his other blade as a javelin to piercing through four Nightmare Men before being caught by the tempting beauty that was The Spirit of the Forest. She in turn used it to divide her current opponent down the middle. The sword was then returned to the Russian in the same fashion, going through a few more Nightmare Men than North’s throw on the return trip.

Her alluring smile displaying a tiny bit of smugness at having outdone the ex-thief, something which had North hacking down a few dozen more Nightmare Men as to not be outdone. “How you hanging up, Bunny?”

“Better than you, ya show pony,” the Pooka griped out, ducking under one shadowy humanoid wisp and kicking his hind leg out, making contact with another one of the never ending army.

“I thought I was the show pony,” Jack mused speeding on by the Pooka. His staff carelessly connected with the monsters surrounding Bunny, freezing them solid.

The hoard of Nightmare Men chasing after the white hair spirit didn’t even hesitate when they crashed through their frozen allies, shattering them to pieces. It was at that point that Bunny’s boomerangs decided it was time to return to their owner, taking out a few of the creatures that were determined to kill the Guardian of Fun.

“Ya a bloody show pony!” Bunny howled, catching the weapons and sending them out on their way once more. His paws darted out, catching what was the head of one of the shadowy wisp, green eyes gleaming into the hollow emptiness where eyes should have been before head-butting the Nightmare Man. “North’s the original show pony.”

“Proud of title!” the Guardian of Wonder bellowed, sweat thoroughly covered the arms of his heavy red coat with black fur trim, while his red plaid shirt had long been a victim of such stains some time ago.

“You would be,” Tooth exasperated, pink eyes rolling as another Nightmare Man fell at her hands. “Is this really the best time for this?”

“Best time? Not on ye life,” North replied, blades clashing together in a scissor like fashion, taking care of three nightmares in the process.

“But we’re doing it anyways,” Jack continued, flying around Sandy; letting the little man’s whips finish off his new Nightmare Men followers chasing him while he froze the ones surrounding the Guardian of Dreams and allowed gravity take hold of solid slabs of ice. The immortal teen mentally doubled the tally when one of the ice blocks of shadowy-wraiths crushed those on the ground. But his best by far had been when an earlier block of ice had crashed down not a foot away from the white furred bear with the little black patch under his chin, flattening three other Nightmare Men. He had given himself eight points for that stunt.

“It’s fun,” the Guardian of Hope finished off, not bothered by the fur slowly becoming matted with blood trickling out above his left eye. Sandy nodding his head in agreement and added his only little comment with the symbols appearing above his head. “Right you are Sandy.”

“I must agree with Toothiana,” The Spirit of the Forest said, her hand going straight through one of the shadowy humanoids which surrounded her. The number of which were slowly growing as more and more got past the slowing Guardians. “This is not the time for such banter.”

“You’re just being a stick in the mud,” Jack let out a strained laugh as he darted under the woman’s raised arms and plowed right into the monster behind her. The blade-like weapon which had been posed behind the forest spirit – just a breath away from slaying Santoff Claussen’s last line of defense – evaporated once the Nightmare Man holding it had been knocked out by Jack’s momentum.

However, the sheer force of dive straight into the creature had thrown the white haired spirit off kilter, driving him across the ground. His body rolled against the battle-scarred terrain, ripping at his clothes and scraping his skin. He only came to a halt thanks to a large boulder which decided to catch him, though Jack could have done without the boulder’s help. His breathing ragged as intense pain came from his head due to the not so great landing.

“Jack!”

He didn’t know who was screaming his name, or if it was multiple people — which would have been more of a relief since that meant the echoing of his name wasn’t a byproduct of his concussion but multiple voices — but it helped give him a focal point to ground himself on.

“I’m fine,” he croaked out, avoiding opening his eyes until his mind stopped spinning and he could tell if he was facing up or down. When he did open his eyes, it was instinctually as a deafening roar pierced his ears and caused his eyes to shoot open in a wild search for the danger. It took Jack’s mind a minute to clear the hazy images of white hairy appendages covered with metal-like armor and recognized the legs of the person in front of him belonging to The Bear and not to North. Either way, he was thankful for the conjured beast which was busy ripping apart the Nightmare Men who had been hot on his trail to care who it was that was saving his hide.

“Would it be appropriate to say I owe you one?” the spirit moaned out after he was dragged out from underneath The Bear by The Spirit of the Forest. Jack counted it as a win that his words were only slightly slurred after the beating his body took, his head in particular.

“Only if you want to admit you are an idiot,” the woman countered, using her sleeve to clean off the thick red liquid from his temple. “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” the Guardian of Fun volleyed back immediately, leaning away from the Spirit of the Forest’s touch. The blood she had been whipping away welled up once again, but with a swipe of two of his fingers over the gash, ice formed over the wound and impeded the blood flow. Grabbing his staff, Jack pulled his feet underneath him and was about to launch himself into the fray once more, but was held unexpectedly back by slim fingers wrapping around his wrist.

“You’re in no condition to fight,” the woman’s eyes narrowed onto his free arm currently wrapping around his ribs.

Ripping his hand away from the protector and positioning his staff in front of his body unconsciously, Jack’s eyes harden into glaciers. “They need all the help they can get.”

“But they need you alive more, young Guardian,” The Bear spoke up, voice gruff and flat even as his paw shredded another monster. “They have been fighting far longer and can hold their own. It is best if you stay with us, let yourself recover. You can still provide us assistance keeping the Nightmare Men from breaching the barrier.”

Gritting his teeth, Jack tersely nodded his head and gave in. The Bear had a point. He would be more of a help to Santoff Claussen’s protectors than fighting alongside the other Guardians. Besides, no matter how much he hated to admit it – even to himself – the Guardians of Childhood worked better as the Big Four than the Big Five.

Viciously shoving those thoughts to the side, the Guardian of Fun used his staff as a crutch to pull himself up. He then spun the staff around his shoulders, bolts of blue energy shooting out and freezing the dozen or so Nightmare Men who had snuck pass the two protectors when they had been busy coming to his aide. The Bear and The Spirit of the Forest took that as an initiative and started to cut down the survivors who were able to struggle pass the four Guardians of Childhood.

Those monsters that did get through were fewer and far in between as time moved on and Jack wasn’t there to interfere with the Big Four’s team dynamics. The horrid of Nightmare Men diminished and there did seem to be an end in sight. An end Jack had a very good view of; one which included win for them but at the price of one of their own. Something he was not going to allow to happen.

Crouching down, the spirit called for the winds and felt them respond immediately to his frantic cries as Jack flung himself into the sky. The winds acting as a slingshot; vastly increased his speed so when he did collide with Tooth the momentum threw them both out of the way of the volley of spears.  

The Tooth Fairy was startled at the impromptu collision with her fellow Guardian, but was abruptly yanked back and out of the way by golden Dreamsand which failed to account for the immortal teen’s interference. So when the volley of spears crossed path with where Tooth had been, pink eyes widened in horror as she desperately tried to reach out and grab Jack but only grasped thin air. She could only watch helplessly as three of the spears gouged large gashes across the stomach of Jack’s hoodie. The frayed edges already stained as the patch of darkening wet fabric slowly extended outwards; yet it went unseen by the last remaining member of the Sister of Flight who was faced with cloudy blue eyes staring listlessly back at her. Eyes which held her full attention would forever unnerve the Guardian of Memories for many decades to come.

Jack tried to speak, opening his mouth helplessly, but the words refused to pass through his throat. He could feel himself free falling, toppling backwards, and it felt eerily similar to falling through the ice for a second time. His limbs went numb as the cold seeped in and the edge of his vision began to black out. The moon’s light was the last thing he saw before his eyes unwillingly closed.

However, that was not the end of it; the end came when white hot pain tore through his body and red designs burned beneath his eyelids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~6/19/2017 edited by SlamTheKeyboard


	2. Dawning of the Olden Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note, when I said I had thirty unedited chapters, I want to clarify that some of them are flushed out while others are really basic and need a whole lot of work. Thus, the amount of time between editing chapters is going to vary. The first few are more flushed out, so they aren't going to take as long to post (hence, this one's already up), but I am going to try to get at least one up per week (no promises).

Darkness was the first coherent thought which flittered to through his semi-conscious mind. It was dark, but it was not cold. Neither was it hot. If anything, Jack could not distinguish the temperature around him which wasn’t any different than how he had spent the last three centuries. However, what was different was his whole body felt dull and he would go as far as saying lethargic as his mind was in the slow process of waking.

He had to exert a large amount of energy to open his eyes and in doing so had to fight a tough battle with his eyelids to get them to cooperate. His eyes had closed a few times after getting a glimpse of some kind of glowing light, which he only realized had a red hue to it on his fifth try. The logical part of Jack thought he should be afraid; the prior moments of the battle sluggishly trickling back to the forefront of his mind. It was the memory of skin being pierced by multiple weapons that should have had him on edge and yet he didn’t feel anything. Not pain, no fear, no nothing; he just didn’t feel.

If anything, he was apathetic and distance and when he was finally able to get his eyes to cooperate and stay open, his vision was assaulted in what most would describe as an ominous red glow. However, in his current state, Jack couldn’t see it as such. In his eyes, while the light emanating from beneath him was blood red, it had pacifying effect on him in the knowledge that he was not dead. At least he didn’t think he was dead which could account for his apathy. But he was not going to dwell on that possibility; not yet at least.

“Where am I?” the white haired teen pondered, involuntarily wincing when the rough crackling words reached his ears. Jack took a moment to moisten his dry throat before making a move. Gingerly, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. His eyes adjusted to the little amount of light provided by the soft red glow, allowing him to make out the dark environment if only faintly. The hue of the light distorted his surroundings and made his blue hoodie seem purple in color with dark black patches around the torn stomach area.

Fingers – dyed red by the ambient light – nimbly pulled back the frayed edges of the fabric and scowled at the slashes in his usually white shirt underneath which looked to be scarlet in the current light. Jack had to instruct himself that now was not the time to mourn the loss of the shirt his sister had worked so hard to make him and braced himself. The immortal teen prepared himself to peel back the destroyed material to get a better look at his current injuries and he was not looking forward to the pain the process would bring.

Jack was disconcerted when all he felt was a slight tingle sensation instead of the searing pain he had been anticipating, especially when he got a better look at the uncovered wound. His normal pale skin was torn and puckered up in three almost parallel injures. Blood, appearing black due to the light, welled up slowly as the spirit spent a moment watching the liquid seep out. His eyes kept telling his mind he was still injured, yet no pain was felt.  He even went as far as poking the injury only to receive the slight tingling sensation as he had felt before.

“Okay, that is not normal,” Jack spoke to no one. It was a habit he had formed during the centuries he was invisible and the spirit had yet to break himself of the practice completely. It still startled him when one of the other Guardians or the Seven Brightest Lights would respond to such comments, but he was proud of himself that he didn’t let it show. While, Monty or Sandy did sometimes give him an odd look, so he couldn’t be completely sure he concealed his reactions fully.

Taking a deep breath, the immortal teenager pushed his wondering thoughts aside and focused back on the task at hand. He had to stop the bleeding or else he would find out if he could die. Something he really did not want to test.

Jack proceeded to run his right hand over the three lacerations and felt nothing. Not even as ice feebly forming around the wounds causing his eyebrows to furrow together. Lips sank as he tried once again to create a bandage of ice over his wounds only to partial cover one of the gashes. The third attempt had similar results as his first two tries, but at least this time the wounds were sealed. Once done, if a little unsatisfied with the results, Jack’s eyes surveyed his surrounds.

“Now what to do?” Jack asked, half expecting to hear the comforting currents of the winds as he surveyed the visible area and feeling a slight tinge of disappointment when there were none.

Violet tinged eyes immediately fell on the crook to his right; the gnarled piece of wood was halfway shadowed by the darkness and partially bathed in the red hue of light. It was then the spirit realized the light wasn’t one big red light but inlayed in the ground in some kind of intricate patterns of lines and symbols. The thickest of the lines formed a circle surrounded him and was by far the brightest source of light.

What was outside the circle, Jack couldn’t say. It was like there was an unseen wall blocking the red glow; shading whatever lay beyond its perimeter in complete darkness. No matter how hard he tried the spirit could not see into the black abyss. Straining his ears brought him no closer to finding out where he was either. He could hear nothing more than an unvarying splash of water dripping into what he assumed was a stagnant pool of water.

The retrieval of his staff, which should have been a problem with his current wounds, had been no more difficult than simply stretching out an arm and grabbing onto the familiar gnarled wood. His body’s lack of response lead his mind to the unwanted thought he might have died, finally crossing over, but the notion was quickly dismissed once more. Not to mention, if he was dead, than why he was still injured? Instead, he focused on finding out where he was and then finding his way out.

“Hopefully, there is an easy way out,” the Guardian of Fun mumbled to himself, which was often the fastest and easiest way to jinx himself.

Jack had attempted and failed many times to exit out of the circle but the endeavor was proving to be futile. Just like his ability to flight seemed to be.   Not one to give up, the immortal teen continued searching to no avail. Walking around the perimeter of what Jack was assuming some type of rune based array gave the spirit a vague impression of the design at the back of his mind. The purpose of which was clear, seeing as how he could not leave said array.

Nevertheless, his subconscious was insisting he had seen some of or even the entire array before. Without an aerial view, he couldn’t confirm if or when he had seen the image before. So he pushed the idea of the array to the back of his mind and resumed walking in circles. After four laps around the limitation space, the immortal teenager began tapping his staff against the ground in tandem with the droplets of water.

The motion was unintentional, yet his pace slowed so his staff was tapping on the ground in tandem with the rhythmic drops of water reverberating in the background. In a way, the sound soothed Jack, not allowing him to grow agitated at his confinement and lack of abilities which allowed him to keep a clear head. Only when his staff hit the ground with no reverberating splashes, the white hairs on the back of his neck pricked up and his body became ridged.

“Who’s there?” Jack shouted, standing his ground while violet tinged eyes darted every which way. Still his eyes couldn’t penetrate the blackness beyond the array of light. The same could be said for what was behind him when he abruptly turned around in hopes of catching a glimpse of the mysterious presence he could sense.

“Where am I?” he questioned as he felt the presence shift around him in a flurry of movement. By concentrating solely on his sense of hearing and disregarding what his eyes couldn’t see, the immortal teenager could faintly hear ruffling of fabric and footfalls. Jack could not locate where the noise was coming from no matter how much he concentrated on the sounds or which way he twisted and turned trying to get a glimpse of whoever – or whatever – was out there.

Turning back around, the spirit stumbled backwards when his nose all but touched the face right before him. His feet stumbled over each other as he backpedaled and for the first time in centuries, Jack hit the ground full force. The winds which ordinarily cushioned his fall were absent and the only reason he wasn’t lying flat on his back due to his natural survival instincts. His hands had gone back, catching himself on hard stone and gravel but in the process his grip on his staff was jarred, sending his only weapon skidding away.

Jack felt the blood drain from his face and into his hammering heart, which pumped copious amounts of adrenaline through his body. In spite of that, when his mind screamed at him to get away from the imposing figure, the immortal was rooted to the spot. The small tremor in his arms had nothing to do with supporting his body weight. He had to gulp down an uncontrollable whimper, which threatened to expose his panic. Pitch had never frightened him this much; but then again, for all Pitch Black’s grandstanding, he had never looked anything like the intimidating figure above him.

Armor made of a mixture of leather, fur, and metal covered every inch of the bulky figure’s body making it impossible for Jack to tell if the person was male or female or even human for that matter. There were talons where human hands should have been and horns coming from the creature’s head which could have been hair. Tusks protruded out from the face area stained along with patches of the armor – or it could have very well been the creature’s skin for all Jack knew – in the same shade of black his blood took on in the dim red light.

Flickering blue dyed violet eyes noticed that as he had been studying the creature before him, it had been studying him. The creature’s head tilted to the side and crouched down on all four. It leaned forward, its face in the direct red light coming from the edge of the circle which had failed to let Jack cross. With the extra radiance allowed the white haired spirit to glimpse the wrappings which created the illusion of a face and tiny slits in the darkened area of the now identified mask’s eyes to allow the wearer to see out.

Gulping down the emotions bubbling up, Jack steeled his reserves. “Where am I?”

“You are here,” a muffled voice resonated through the mask making it impossible to tell if it was male or female. It took him even longer to recognize the language being spoke as an Old Norse dialect, but his long stint being invisible had its perks. “How did you get here?”

“I woke up here,” Jack honestly answered back in Old Norse, pulling his legs under his body while trying to keep the movements slow and his eyes locked on the armored warrior.   However, the person didn’t seem to notice his retreat or change of language, choosing instead rocked back into a crouching position, hand rubbing at the chin of the mask. Taking the opportunity presented to him, the immortal teen scuffling further into the array and away from the side. His hand fumbled behind him, blindly searching for his lost staff and coming up empty.

The figure nodded, horns swaying at the movement yet Jack could tell it was not a nod of understanding. More like the armored warrior was trying to connect what he said with knowledge the white haired spirit lacked and stood up. Stifled muttering filled the darkness as the figured began pacing around the outside of the array.

Jack took the chance to peek behind him, eyes spying the familiar sight of the shepherd’s staff. Violet eyes redirected on the figure, noting the person was half way around the circle still muttering leaving him with an opportunity. Tumbling backwards in a controlled rolled he had perfected over the centuries, Jack easily grabbed his staff and repositioned himself in the same position as he was before, if a few feet away from his original position.

His deception was flawlessly executed, yet when the figure finished one full circle and turned his way, the mutterings drifted off. The large round shoulder pads of the armor rising up and falling down as an audible gasp echoed around them. Jack couldn’t see the person’s eyes, but he had the suspicion that they were fixated on his staff he had unsuccessful hidden behind him.

Whatever he had been expecting was not for the armored wearing warrior to step into the array and walk in his direction. Hands hidden below the talons supported either side of the mask, pulling it over the person’s head. A slender face edged with the lines of happiness and worry which had built up over the years was strained red along with bound tresses of hair. Thin lips gapped open and brown – which he didn’t think was the real color due to the current lighting – eyes stared into his as if their owner couldn’t believe what was right in front of her.

The older woman – for it was indeed a woman – continued toward him. Jack, on the other hand, flinched away. He would have scrambled back once more, yet his grip on his staff prevented it, making it near impossible without snapping the piece of wood. What was worse was he was seriously considering the damage to his staff as an acceptable loss if it meant getting away.

Brown eyes had to have picked up on his telegraphed movement to flee for she stepped a few feet away from the immortal teenager. There, she took the time to study him. Searching for something which she wasn’t finding going by the growing frown on her face.

“Do you know who I am?” the woman inquired, head tilting to the side once more. Her voice was soft and gentle, one like a mother to frighten child. The atmosphere changed at her gesture and Jack could feel his body subconsciously uncoiling. Be that as it may, his hand tightened around the slim wooden shaft, his only form of protection.

“Should I?” Jack asked as he used his staff as a crutch to stand up. An irked grimace passed the immortal teen’s lips when he noticed brown eyes measuring the difference in height between the two of them. He couldn’t help he had become a Guardian when he did, forever being stuck as he had been before his ascension, which didn’t make him small in his professional opinion. Adults were just freakishly tall that was all.

Chuckling slightly at the transparent attempt at false bravo from the young boy, the woman gave the eternal teenager a disarming smile. “I am the Disir of the Hairy Hooligans Tribe.”

White hair swayed slightly as Jack bobbed his head, a long buried memory of his time with his mother bubbling to the surface of his mind. Meeting a Disir was considered to be a real honor his mother once told him but she had warned him as well. While Disir were mortals chosen to become protective spirits over certain lands; or in certain cases, protective spirits over clans who maintained the sacred balance between all people, creatures, and elements in their territory. In the days of old, they were regularly called upon to pass judgment over those found wanting, but worthy of the Old Religion’s attention.

However, meeting a Disir in this day and age was almost unheard of, even by immortals’ standards. Jack had never personally come across one of the beings of the Old Religion in his three hundred years as a spirit but he had heard stories. The last to have crossed paths with a Disir had been when he was still newly minted immortal and he had only heard about the incident decades later while eavesdropping on some water nymphs.

Form their gossip, Pitch had been sent fleeing for his immortal life. It had taken centuries for the Boogeyman to regain the power he lost in the brief encounter with the very territorial Disir he had carelessly offended. After having fought with the Nightmare King himself, the immortal teenager could only imagine how powerful that particular Disir had been. He also had a revelation and with the revelation, Jack came to one conclusion; he was never going to piss off a Disir.

“Pleasure,” Jack grinned, nervously flipping his staff from his right hand, over his shoulders and into his left hand allowing him to hold out his now free hand. The woman, instead of shaking it as the immortal had grown accustomed to over the last half century, cupped his hands with both of hers. “I’m J-”

“Jackson Overland, I know,” the woman’s eyes glistening, her hands slightly tightening around Jack’s hand but it wasn’t painful. “I have been waiting for you. Berk has been waiting for you. The White Goddess has seen it once and she shall see it again.”

Jack didn’t have to stifle his kneejerk reaction of yanking his hand away from the Disir’s gentle gripped at her touch. No, her knowledge of who he was had kept him rooted to the spot. Most immortals didn’t know who he was, or if they did, they never seemed to remember his name or thought of him as insignificant. Yet, for her to know Jackson Overland that was near impossible.

Jack didn’t even know his mortal name until only four short years ago. So either he had to have done something extraordinary in his mortal life for the Disir to know his name or she was clairvoyant. Either way, whether her knowing his true name was a good thing or not, only time would tell.

Despite the uncertain outcome of having the Disir know who he was, Jack couldn’t help the flush of his embarrassment staining his cheeks. The color only fading once the Disir slowly released his hand; but not before tucking something into the immortal teen’s palm and taking a step back. Her eyes darkening as they darted to his hand and blue tainted violet eyes followed. It was a ragged piece of parchment tanned with age, but drawn in charcoal was a runemark. A smaller version of the one which made up the center of the array he was currently standing in, not that Jack knew it.

His head immediately jerked up, seeing that the Disir was now standing outside of the brightening red hue of the array. A crystalline tear rolling down her face was the last image Jack saw before the array beneath his feet exploded in a brilliant light. The abnormally subdued wounds on his back came to life, bursting with pain. However, it was the last words of the Disir which stayed with him as the center runemark swallowed him up.

“I am truly sorry for your fate, but he needs you.”

* * *

The next time Jack came to, he wished he hadn’t. Scotching pain shot through his veins, consuming his whole body and it just wasn’t because of his wounds. This was different; this felt like his whole body was being lit on fire and each molecule was being destroyed one by one. He had tried to bite back the screams of pain, only to succeed in biting through his lips before screaming his throat raw.

“To-o… ho-ot… wan’ co-ld…,” Jack croaked out a plea, longing for the snow and ice which was usually at his disposal. At least then he could numb himself from this inferno, but the chill of winter inside of him felt like it was fading; the intense heat melting the ice in his veins. “N-o… go… co-ld, ne-ed… co-old, plea’….”

For a moment, a brief moment, Jack could feel his body cooling down. He almost felt better to a certain degree, but the relief was temporarily. The chill of winter in him flickered before vanishing as red hot flames burned through the winter. His screams were silent as his lungs fought for air but were unable to draw any in through the pain.

Silent pleads to the other Guardians, to Manny, to the Disir, to anyone listening to help him, all went unanswered. Jack desperately wished for someone or something to comfort him. His tortured mind could almost feel the winds caressing his body as if he soared across the skies. Yet he could feel pressure against the wounds in his stomach as if he was laying on them which conflicted with his prior impression. That too became a distant memory as the fire became the only thing Jack was able to focus on.

Opening his eyes was out of the option, the one time he tried left him feeling nauseous from vertigo. Coupled with vivid colors and hazy shapes which refused to stay still, Jack could almost ignore the flames in favor of his head splitting open. The brief glimpse of the area before the eternal youth had to close his eyes was not worth the pain which had accompanied it.

Another scream tore from his throat, body seizing from the sudden jolt. There was no longer any pressure on his stomach injuries but he could feel the heaven-sent, cool, damp snow on the side of his face. His blue hoodie had already started to soak up the moisture and Jack shuttered when it pressed against his heated skin. The minor change in temperature gave Jack a bit of a reprieve from the pain.

The deafening humming in his ears had frizzed out and if he strained his hearing, Jack could make out the sounds of rushing waters and the music of the winds cantering through the leaves and branches. It was a diversion for his pain, listening to his surroundings, but his focus was slipping he was too drained that even the pain wouldn’t be keeping him awake for long.

Jack had almost become a part of the blackness when a sharp snap had him flinching. The involuntarily movement aggravated his injuries and jolting him away from the blackness while resurrecting the buzzing in his ears. He whimpered at the renewed pain, knowing it would be more painful to scream, and just wished it would all end.

He might have mumbled something to that effect, since he swore he heard gruffly coos of comfort intended to sooth him. Though, Jack could not be sure since he was already spiraling back into the blissful abyss of unconsciousness.  

* * *

Waking up for the third time was a mixture of his first and second experiences in waking. Like the first, his whole body felt somewhat numb and heavier than usual. Yet, akin to the second awakening, his senses were bombarded with information which was overwhelming him. His mind insisted there was a dull ache which cautioned him about his injuries and any sudden movements would not be advisable. He could feel he was lying on some type of lumpy surface. Jack hazarded a guess he might have been on some form of bedding.

He could hear muffled noises off in the distance evoking images of his days as a colonial boy, when there was no modern humming of technology but the hustle and bustle of people laboring away to survive. There was the familiar, comforting sound of the whispering of the winds just a little ways off. He could hear them howling as the sped across open water before slowing down as the cut through foliage and around manmade structures.

However, it was the smell which eased his beating heart. He could smell the crisps cold of winter’s touch. Snow and ice were all around, yet burred under was the thick scent of wood and a hint of metal along with something else which he could not identify at the time. From the strong scent of snow he could tell a brutal snowstorm had dropped a thick blanket of white powder relatively recently, a week and a half to be exact.

Having learned from the last waking, Jack slowly cracked opened his eyes and quickly shut them again when intense light filtered through. The moan which accompanied his foolish action sounded pathetic even to his ears. Despite this, the Guardian of Fun was not one to be deterred and he forced his eyes to creep open once more, giving them time to adjust before blinking a few times to clear his vision.

Eyes groggily stared up at the unfamiliar swirls and rings in the wood of the roof above him. A faint plopping of water on water had Jack coming back and eyes started moving away from the tantalizing designs and followed the main support beam to the supporting wall. Jack turned his head as much as he could while lying on his back when his eyes could no longer follow the structure.

From there, Jack could see the vaulted wooden walls, which intersected with one another at the main support beam. The flooring was made up of cobblestone with a decent size hole for the hearth which was crackling with life and light. Over the top of the fire, a large metal cauldron hung boiling away at the contents inside. There was a fortified table not too far off to the side of the cauldron with various different wooden and stone utensils laid scattered across the top along with different varieties of plant leaves and berries.

Turning his head to the other side allowed Jack to see a stone slab with innumerable knives and other crude tools. There were furs and skins in various stages of the tanning process hanging above the stone workstation, but that wasn’t all. Skins and furs were everywhere. Brown and grey furs sprawled out on the floor while beige leather was hung from the walls. There were flies buzzing around one particular heap of damp black furs and blood dripping off the slab, showing just how fresh some of the kills were.

It was because of the opened window above the bed and the crisp fresh breeze that kept the putrid smell from overwhelming whole house. Still, now that Jack knew the smell was there, he could faintly pick up the stench of dried blood and decaying flesh. This, sadly for Jack, had his stomach turning and he had to pushing himself up and over to the side of the bed to dry-heave, which only grew harder when he aggravated his wounds.

Once the bout of nausea safely passed, Jack urged his body up right which was a struggle in itself. His legs got tangled in the fade grey furs covering his body while his arms refused to hold his weight for long as he struggled to sit up on the edge of the bed. By the time he was sitting up, Jack’s breath was coming out hard and ragged. The entirety of his body ached but that was nothing compared to the searing spikes of pure agony from his stomach.

“I feel like death warmed over,” the three-hundred-eighteen year old boy grumbled around dry heaves. He noticed his voice was rough and scratchy, but only vaguely as he was in too much pain to really care how his voice sounded.

Despite everything, Jack stood up. Wobbling on his feet for a moment, the spirit took an unsteady step toward the far corner of the space where his crook was propped up against the wall adjacent to the only door. It was a slow process, one foot in front of the other should have been easy, but not when one of those feet just happened to stumble over an uneven patch in the cobblestone floor and sending him tottering into the hard wooden table. He had almost blackout from the pain when his side made contact with the edge of the table but he hung on, working to control his rapidly heaving chest and heavy panting.

“No complaining,” he muttered to himself, forcing his legs to hold his weight and completely ignoring the black spot in his vision. Jack found out the table made for a good crutch; by keeping one hand on the stable surface at all times, he could stumble forward without falling. Then again, the length of the table wasn’t as long as he would have liked it and the assistance it provided ran out all too fast. The immortal teenager found himself swaying more than walking the last few feet to his staff.

“A little more, a yard or two at best,” Jack encouraged, although, it could be a hundred feet for all the good it did him when his body started to tremble and waver.

He had almost reached it, less than a foot to go when his body failed him. Jack would have taken another fall to the ground if not for the convenient timing of the door opening. One large muscular arm hooked around his shoulders, and for a moment, Jack thought North had come to his rescue. However, the thick brogue which accompanied the arm was definitely not Russian.

“Whoa there, Laddie, where do you think you’re goin’? You’re in no shape to be movin’ about,” an unperturbed robust voice scolded him. Jack, having stiffened at the unfamiliar contact, was spurred into frenzy as the words were spoken in the Old Norse dialect which he was becoming better acquainted with.

He wriggled out of the lax hold, his body lurching forward and slamming against the wall. Jack was lucky enough he was able to snag his staff during his struggles. Once his fingers grasped it, he expected to feel the euphoria of his frost surging forward to coat the crook’s bark. However, his staff stayed frost free. The euphoria of winter surfacing never came. Instead, he was left with an empty feeling inside.

“Laddie, Laddie, calm down,” the thick brogue bought Jack’s eye onto the tall imposing figure standing over him. The man was massive and it was no wonder he had mistaken the man for North, but clearly he wasn’t the Guardian of Wonder. Where North had a fluffy long white beard and wore a heavy red and black fur coat with matching fur cap, this stranger had a long straight blond beard with the ends of his mustache tide off with some twine. He wore a tawny matted fur sleeveless tunic and brown rawhide pants with thick boot. On top of his head was a horned helmet Jack had only seen in books and movies about Vikings.

None of this compared to the giant crudely made double bladed axe in the man’s hands. Specifically, the distorted reflection in the metal; although not as clear as mirrors or even still water, Jack could see the distorted blurry image of himself.   While he could not make out the color of his eyes, he could clearly make out his form huddled on the floor. His skin tone appearing off colored in the metal’s reflection and he was wearing an unfamiliar brown shirt. Most importantly, he could make out the messy mass of his hair.

The messy mass of his _brown_ hair.

Jack could feel his world come crashing down on him. Unknowingly, _amber_ eyes dilating into small pinpricks as the words of the unknown man grew to be a mere buzzing noise. Little puffs of fog formed and dispersed in front of his mouth from the dropping temperature in the room with both window and the door wide opened, which only served to increase the amount of tiny puffs as Jack’s breathing becoming exponentially faster. His body started to shudder and his eyes widened at the visual representation of his body heat raising.

Jack was _alive_.

As Jack Frost, a spirit, he was neither alive nor dead. When he had fallen through the ice all those years ago, the Man in the Moon had frozen his existence at the brink of death. His body had been altered in that moment. His failing heart had been forced to keep beating sluggishly despite the hypothermia setting in; tricking his mind into believing his core temperature was normally a few degrees above freezing. The white hair and blue eyes had been an unexpected side effect of the transformation.

An additional byproduct of effectively being forced to live while dying in a frozen pond was he had absorbed winter’s chill, allowing him at first small feats of icing things over which progressed to procuring his frost. Bunny had often wondered about his winter abilities, having lived during the Golden Ages when Constellations Families routinely created their kind of Guardian to fight off evil. Their powers, and by extension Manny’s powers, only enhanced what was already there and didn’t give them extra abilities as the immortal teenager had obtained.

Jack had made a point of making his sister and the children of his village laugh and enjoy themselves even in the hardest of times which was the ability Manny had enhanced in him after his pseudo death. With a touch of his powers, he could bring the feeling of excitement and elation to the forefront of people’s minds like North could bring wonder and to children’s eyes as they tore open their Christmas presents and Bunny brought hope and new beginnings to children each Easter. His abilities to create frost and ice, was not so much like any of the Big Four’s capabilities.

Still, each of his unique talents was a part of himself, a part which Jack was frantically retreating within himself to find. He searched for the touch of winter which allowed him to ice objects over at his will, for the spark of exhilaration and excitement which was teeming to be released, for the flurry of power which had fern patterns growing in frost over surfaces at his mere touch. For the part of himself that made him _Jack Frost_.

Yet, the capacity to channel the chill of winter along with his ability to bring a person’s enthusiasm and elation to the moment was gone.

He was _mortal_.


	3. A Viking's Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little disappointed that no one commented on the last chapter, especially with all that had gone on. Oh, well, here's the next chapter.

Finn Hofferson considered himself to be an average Viking. He had the characteristic blond hair all Hoffersons seemed to be born with and dark eyes which were sharp and alert. He could spot movement and react promptly, which had saved his life on a number of occasions from ambushes from Outcasts and dragons alike. Furthermore, Finn classified himself as being of average height with an above average build. When measured against the chief of the tribe he was proud to say he was only slightly shorter than the larger than life man. Although, he was no were near as built as the chief, but the Viking consoled himself with the fact there was only a handful of people who could measure up to Stoick the Vast.  

He had been, at one point, the fiercest and most well respected Viking of Berk, second only to the chief. Taking on dragons which others’ had lost their limbs or even their lives to and came out relatively unharmed with a few more scars but all his limbs still attached. A villager had called him ‘Fearless Finn Hofferson’ after a particular vicious Monstrous Nightmare had nearly decapitated the village’s healer and he had decapitated it instead in front of the entire village. The name spread like a wildfire along with the story of him saving Gothi and soon, the whole town had taken to calling him ‘Fearless Finn Hofferson’ and the moniker stuck.

Finn had become a minor celebrity overnight in the eyes of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe members. While he hadn’t taken advantage of his fame, the Hofferson didn’t discourage the attention either. He had to admit it, if only to himself, he had liked the attention. The pretty women who had only given him a passing glance before were falling over themselves to talk to him. He got preferential treatment whether it came to rations or getting his weapons repaired at the blacksmith’s. People wanted his attention, to be his friend, to train with him and it was a novelty which would never wear off, but it would come to an end.

Either he got too cocky and taken on more than he could handle or – the option which Finn preferred was – the Flightmare was just too much for him to handle. Whichever it was, in one night he had gone from ‘Fearless Finn Hofferson’ to ‘Frozen Finn Hofferson’. The people who he thought were his friends had bolted out of his life faster than a wild boar that had seen a hungry dragon. He was still the center of attention, but not in the way anyone would wish to be.

His family had tried to be there for him, allowed him to use there hut as a refuge and drove off the hecklers. His brother had offered to let him stay with them as long as he wanted, but Finn couldn’t stay. Even though they tried to understand his plight, none of them knew how he felt. No one in Berk could understand how it felt from being at the top and having everything to having nothing.

Finn had finally had enough when Mildew, the village’s pariah, had started mocking him and the other villagers actually _listened_ to the moron. That was when he knew it wasn’t going to get better. Not in the foreseeable future and he couldn’t put up with it for only the gods know how long. So he left Berk. More accurately, Finn left the main village and move further inland and away from the village.

The Hofferson searched for weeks, taking shelter in caves from time to time, until he found the perfect place for his new residence. It was a relatively secluded area with three rock walls which offered protection against the elements and, more importantly, dragons. Building himself a house against one of the rock faces had taken some time due to many failures caused by erratic storms. In the interim, he lived out of a small cave not far from his house which he now used as a place to store his winter provisions.

Most of village probably thought he had died within the first few months, but he was Viking through and through. Finn survived by hunting and gathering food. What he could not make for himself, his brother, Binn Hofferson, would bring him on one of his sporadic visits. Mostly though, he was on his own. Away from the shameful memories of the day which would always haunt his life.

A day which was ten summers in the past and Berk was now a different world than the one he had left behind. Despite not living in the village, he still kept up on the most recent events in Berk. Finn had seen the improvements made by the village from a distance, subtle changes to the equipment coming out of the forge. Binn’s wife kept him informed on the gossip, from reaffirming ties with the Berserkers to the loss of their friends in combat, Finn heard it all from Camicazi Hofferson.

The village hit its hardest time eight years after his departure. Dragon attacks had become more frequent and the loss of their herds had effected the tribe’s population. Even the local wildlife had diminished to the point hunting became impractical and the Hairy Hooligans Tribe was as good as extinct. Then, a little less than one summer ago, everything had changed. Dragons had gone from being Berk’s worst enemies to being their best allies.

Stoick’s hiccup of a son had done the impossible; he had befriended and trained a _Night Fury_. Together, the two of them along with his niece and several other young Vikings had taken on the Red Death, the Queen of the Dragons. Moreover, they won by the skin of their teeth and sheer dumb luck from what his niece had told him.

From then on, things had changed rapidly. The chief had appointed his son as Berk’s Head of their new Dragon Training Academy and the boy was teaching his generation how to work with dragons. However, from what Binn and Camicazi had both told him, there were still many bumps along the way. A lot of which were caused by Mildew from his niece’s descriptions.

Despite the fact Berk had changed in the past summer, Finn had yet to return to the village. Astrid, his blessed niece, had tried to talk him into come back only days after dragons had been accepted. Proudly showing off her Deadly Nadder, Stormfly, who she had flown to his hut as proof things had changed with the dragons and they could change with him too. However, Finn knew his shame was a scabbed the villagers would gladly rip wide open, especially with the change in dynamics between Berk and dragons.

There would be some who would oppose the integration of dragons and wouldn’t care about his shame by making an example out of dragons using hi, as an example. He wasn’t about to let them have another go at him, he maybe a Hofferson but he wasn’t strong enough to deal with it. Neither was he strong enough to deal with the root of his problems without trying to kill the dragons.

So, he stayed in his little secluded hut protected by the rocks surrounding his home. Whereas Berk was growing into something new, something different, his life stayed pretty much the same over the pasted year. He still lived off the land and had Binn trade the furs and hides he accumulated for additional supplied he needed from Berk. Granted, he did see an increase in his family visiting him, Astrid most of all with that dragon of hers reducing the three day journey to a short flight.

No his life took a turn during the beginnings of Devastating Winter.

While he didn’t kill dragons anymore at the insistence of Astrid, Finn still hunted for food and it was on one of his last hunting trips before the first of Devastating Winter’s superstorms would hit that would change Berk’s very fate. He had been tracking a deer, a Roe Deer from the tracks in the snow, when a flock of multicolored small dragons the size of his forearm with an iguana-like body, two pairs of horns, and a barbed tipped tail came bursting out of the woods, flying erratically towards him.

Finn had dropped his hunting bow and made a grab for the battle axe strapped to his back to defend himself from attacking Terrible Terrors. However, before he managed to pull the axe out of its holster, the relatively small dragons were upon him. The flock parted around his person as if he were another tree in the forest, barely avoiding hitting him in their erratic attempt to flee.

A loud screech echoed through the forest sending the rest of the wildlife scattering. Out of the corner of his eyes, Finn could see the Roe Deer – as well as a few boars and one striking winter fox – he had been tracking darting around a tree and away from the predator.   The screech was obviously a dragon’s cry, one Finn identified as Changewing without any hesitation. He had never seen one in person, not many had since they could camouflage themselves and become nearly invisible, but he had heard the species of dragons a time or two before hand when the boats he had been on gotten a little too close to Changewing Island.

He would have left. Really, Finn would have left it at that, knowing that Changewings traveled as a pride and they were very aggressive in nature. It was the loud yawn like growl which had the blond Viking inching forward. The noise was close to a Gronckle’s lazed roar, yet, at the same time, it was different. Whatever dragon it belonged to seemed to have enraged the Changewing even more, since an even louder screech tore through the trees.

The thought of a single dragon enraging a pride of Changewings was absurd. Even if it was only one Changewing at the moment there was sure to be more arriving due to the second screech which brought out Finn’s curiosity. Whatever the type of dragon it was, the owner of the yawn like growl was facing down the Changewing and didn’t seem to be backing down. A dragon Finn was going to have a better look at, if only to regal his niece with a tale of a brave dragon or even new dragon species.

The thought of an impending battle between the two species did not even deter him. Finn was already headed in the direction of the screeches and growls, one large hand drawing his battle axe, holding the weapon in a protectively front of him. It didn’t take long for him to find the dragons as two more Changewings flickered from invisible to visible as they flew across the sky and landed not far from his current position.

Another growl rent the air, less like the yawn-growl he heard earlier but it was obviously the same dragon. Finn finally found the snow covered clearing the four dragons were having a standoff in. Despite not being able to see the Changewings anymore, the hunter could track their movements in the snow as they circled around what looked to be a Gronckle at first glance.

Upon skulking forward a little more, the blond Viking could see that the dragon crouching close to the ground had a larger body and wings. Unlike the Gronckle, the new species did not have a blunt nose, but rather a horn nose which was flaring ever few seconds as froglike pupils darting every which way. The rapid eye movement made it nearly impossible to see the yellow color of the dragon’s eyes which were located on either side of the beast’s head.

Even with all the difference, they were minor compared to how much the dragon resembled the Gronckle. The clubbed tail was one such likeness. There were also the distinctive armored scales, although a darker reddish-brown color and teeth strong enough to crush solid rocks which were typical characteristics of the Boulder-class dragons. Disproportional wings — although larger than a Gronckle’s — looked too small to be incapable of lifting such a large mass. A deceiving trait as the dragon proved a moment later.

The Changewings, unseen to Finn, had apparently surrounded the smaller dragon but the creature wasn’t as unaware as the Hofferson to the predators’ locations. For the bulky dragon sprang up into the air, rotating as it hovered only a few feet off the snow. With three well placed blasts of molten rock, three medium size red dragons flickered into existence screeching from their newly acquired injures.

Cooling lava was hastily being scrapped out of their elongated faces with the dragons’ forepaws. One of which was having more trouble and shook its head back and forth to rid itself of the hardening rock substance. However, the Changewing’s small leaf-like spines antennas slashed the closest blinded Changewing with the kneejerk reaction. In turn, the second Changewing fired out a stream of acid and hit the third Changewing. The third Changewing retaliated in kind, lashing out with it tail and striking the first Changewing on the side of the head.

None of them were prepared for a second blast of lava to smash into their beings. Combined with the friendly fire and the hardening rock which was slowly flaking off the Changewings’ faces, the pride took to the air. To the amazement of Finn, the Boulder-class dragon had the Changewings retreating. If anything, he thought the smaller dragon would not survived the encounter, let alone be the one shooting off one last lava blast, singeing the tail of one of the Changewings. More impressive was the fact the unknown dragon species did all this while hovering only a few feet off the ground.

Finn normally would leave well enough alone. Left the Boulder-class dragon to its own devices and get on with his own hunt. Yet, without the deafening roars of the dragons splitting the air, he could hear what sounded to be tortured moans. A sound which could not belong to a dragon, but a human and it was coming from the middle of what was once the dragons’ battlefield.

Another sweep of the area had dark eyes locking with one of the dragon’s eyes currently crouching on the ground. Its clubbed tail posed high in the air in what appeared to be a threatening manner yet no fangs were bared. In fact, the dragon seemed to be measuring him up. Eyes judging him and this time, Frozen Finn Hofferson refused to look away as he had done so many times in the past since his encounter with the Flightmare.

Ever so slowly, the clubbed tailed lowered until it was touching the ground. Only then did the dragon break his gaze and waddled backward, revealing a lump of blues and browns covered in red tinged snow. For a second, Finn couldn’t breathe, his axe falling from his hand as another whimper of pain came from the huddled ball of flesh and cloth. Involuntarily, he took a step forward, wanting to help, but spotted with the realization the dragon was only a mere foot away from the motionless body.

His eyes meet those of the dragon’s for a second time and in the moments their eyes were locked, it felt like an understanding was formed between them. Finn took a step forward, then another and another without the Boulder-class dragon even twitching. It did, however, take a large yawn and lay down in the pinkish snow, watching him out of half-mast eyes. The gesture seemed to be the dragon’s way of defusing the remaining tension in the air, which made it all the more easier for the Viking to take the final few steps to the small figure.

“By Odin,” Finn breathed out, taking in the mauled appearance of the feeble body. There were three slash on the back of the strange clothing soaked through with blood and melted snow. Congealed blood ran down the sickly white face of the boy who couldn’t have been over twelve winters old judging by his slight build and small frame.

In all honesty, Finn was surprised the boy was still alive. His lack of shoes and protective clothing should have had hypothermia already setting in, yet none of the child’s limbs were turning blue. Stranger yet, winter clung to the boy with a thin layer of frost and it was only the whizzing puffs of air from the body which indicated the child was among the living. Finn was still fearful the boy might be on his way to Valhalla and reached out to check on him. He was stopped in his tracks by the threatening growl off to the side.

“I’m not going to hurt him. I’m trying to help,” the Viking found himself reasoning with the dragon, although he didn’t think it would do much good. His eyebrow shot up into his brow when the beast responded after a moment of hesitation with a grunt. The dragon pushed its nose into his outstretched hand, which had Finn reverting to his detested nickname and freezing on the spot.  

A minute later, the dragon drew back and waited. A rumble from the beast spurred Finn out of his frozen state and into a frenzy of motions. He didn’t want to spend any time dwelling on what had just happened and focused his attention on the boy instead of his frayed nerves. Laying one large hand on the boy’s forehead, Finn cringed at the sheer chill radiating from the alabaster skin.

“He’s as cold as ice,” Finn thought out loud shivering himself as he pulled his hand away from the icy cold skin. “He needs to get warmed up or he won’t survive.”

The dragon grunted, hefting itself up to its feet in a cumbersome fashion. Eyes closing, the round body started to lurch before a large blob of red hot lava spattered to the side of the boy. The snow instantaneously evaporated in a cloud of steam and the heat was already working on melting the layer of frost clinging to the child.

“Uh… that works… but he needs to be taken inside,” the blond faltered unsettled by the beast’s ability to comprehend his words. Dragons were supposed to be ignorant creatures that only thought about their own survival. They weren’t supposed to intelligent creatures able to understand the Norse language and capable of reason. It was what made killing them easy for the hunter, because they were supposed to be mindless savage beasts.

Another grumble from the dragon had the Viking raising an eyebrow, but Finn took it as an affirmative. Slipping his arms underneath the boy’s legs and shoulders, Finn was careful of the child’s stomach injuries as he hefting him up. His lips tugged down at lack of weight only to morph into a straight line when a staff was unearthed staff. Even in his unconscious state, the boy refused to release his grip on his only weapon and the Viking didn’t have the heart to take it away.

It was a bit of a hassle, walking through the rough terrain with the staff dragging on the ground every now and again. But Finn was able to make do with a little delicate maneuvering to allow the boy to keep ahold of his staff while not jostle the wounds. He made sure to keep the child close to his body, hoping to transfer somebody heat to the frozen skin and it seemed to help. The ice had already started to drip away from brown locks of hair and his still body began to shiver.

A little more than halfway to his hut, the looming sky had broken and a little powder began to drift down. The white puffs of breath became more predominate, easing some of Finn’s tension. As time past, the flakes of snow became larger and larger as the boy’s breathing became more consistent and stronger.   Through all this, the hunter had not failed to realize the dragon had been following him and continued to follow him all the way to the valley which housed his hut.

Finn arrived at the small hut he called his own not a moment too soon. He had barely managed to nudge the door open with his foot when the skies failed to hold back their devastating forces any longer. The winds quickly joined in on the chaos; tearing through the valley with the intense ferocity of an angered dragon howling in rage. The shear force behind the winds shook the hut and Finn had barely enough time to brace his shoulder against the doorframe before he was slammed by the squall. The hunter knew the signs for what they were, it was first of many snowstorms that signaled Devastating Winter had truly begun.

Finn needed to get himself and the child inside, before they were buried in snow. However, he made the mistake of looking back to see the Boulder-class dragon standing a few paces back and by the gods, did the creature look pathetic surrounded up to its ankles in the snow. Its wings were dropped down and its bottom jaw appeared to be trembling.

He didn’t know what made him do it. It could have been all his niece’s prodding and cajoling had finally sunk through his thickhead. It could have been the gods’ divine intervention which made him do it. Or it could just have been the way the dragon looked so dejected and defeated that reminded him too much of himself. Whatever the reason was, Finn found himself motioning the dragon towards the open door with his head.

“Well, come on then,” Finn grunted at the creature as he shifted the boy in his arms to get a better grip.

The dragon cocked its head to the side and looked between him and the door, not sure what to do. With a loud sigh the hunter gave another gesture with his head while looking pointedly at the beast. The dragon took a moment to comprehend what he wanted but once it did, its eyes widened and its whole body perked up. Giving a soft hum the dragon waddled into the hut, barely fitting through the door, and proceeded to shake all of the snow clinging to its body off and onto the floor.

Finn paid it no mind, as he made a beeline to his bed and set the boy in the middle. He quickly retraced his step and closed the door, making sure to barricade it close to prevent the winds from blowing it opened, before returned to the child’s side. Along the way, he picked up the few medical supplies he had and placed them next to the bed and got to work. Carefully, he pried the staff out of the boy’s hand and laid it to the side not to damage the child’s weapon. Next Finn worked to remove the blood stained fabric which turned out to be very difficult. Especially since the material had adhered to the boy’s skin and peeling it off reopened some of the wounds. In the end, the blond had to use his knife to cut the garments off.

The wounds beneath the child’s clothing were shallower than Finn had anticipated but nonetheless serious. Alabaster skin – which had gained some color in the interim – was coated with blood and puckered; a bloody blackish ooze coming from some of the wounds unlike anything he had ever encountered. However, he knew the signs of an infection well enough and the discoloration was written off as an effect of the extreme cold the boy had been subjected to. The wound itself was self-explanatory: claw marks.

“Covered in a Changewing’s acid no doubt,” Finn muttered to himself, analyzing the inflamed skin and the bloody blackish ooze coming out of the wounds. “We’ll have to clean that out first.”

Getting up, the Viking made his way to the door, grabbing the caldron over the dying ember of his hearth as he walked by. The moment he stepped outside, the raging storm devoured the warmth he had managed to gain from the little heat given off by his hearth and he was violently shivering within seconds. Snow had already built up at his door, which accounted for the extra effort it had taken to open it, but it also made it easier to fill the caldron with the frozen flakes he needed. Finn quickly packed handfuls of snow into the pot and got back inside before he caught his own death.

Placing the caldron over the flickering embers, Finn made a grab for some of the firewood he kept inside. Yet, before he could place the gathered logs onto the dying coals, the dragon took it upon itself and covered the hearth with a layer of lava. The molten rock made an immediate difference to the chilled room, heating it up to the point Finn had to take off his fur over coat. It also had the snow melted and boiling in record time.

“I can see why Binn allowed Astrid to keep that Deadly Nadder of hers, you dragons can come in handy,” the blond spoke to himself as he ladled out the boiling water into two smaller bowls and moving to the table. There he began to add different herbs and an occasional berry to one of the bowls, mixing the ingredients until he had a thick grey paste.

Taking both bowls over to the bed, Finn used the clean part of what was left of the child’s clothing and the warm water to clean his injuries with. Once the blood and the blackish ooze were cleared away, the hunter applied a liberal amount of the grey paste to the wounds. The balm would neutralize the Changewing’s acid and help the wound heal. From there, it was up to the child if he survived or not.

It wouldn’t be until days later the boy would show any signs of life. Not until well after the first weeklong snow snowstorm of Devastating Winter quelled its raging. During which time, Finn kept both him and the dragon sustained on the cured meat and fish he had stowed away for the season. He had tried to keep the child’s strength up as well, feeding him a few spoonful of broth a day which seemed to help.

Although, Finn had learned the hard way any more than a few spoonsful would irritate the boy’s stomach and resulted a sickly mess. A few of those times also had the child’s wounds reopening, releasing more of the blackish ooze. Still, the brunet seemed to be getting better. No longer was he shivering uncontrollably and sweeting through the woolen shirts Finn periodically changed him into as he reapplied the healing balm and the infection was going down. Better yet, color had returned to the boy’s skin and he didn’t look like an impending guest of Hel’s realm.

As for Finn himself, he was thankfully the storm dwindled down to nothing before cabin-fever set in. He had immediately left the hut even before the last of the snowfall had subsided, but he wasn’t the only one. The dragon — that he had reluctantly given his grudging respect — had taken to the skies the moment Finn had forced opened the snow covered door. Where the thing went, Finn could have cared less, seeing as it ate most of his rations for Devastating Winter. He had more important things to accomplish, like restocking his dwindling supplies.

It had taken him three days, but his daily hunting trips were successful. He had managed to kill not one, but two deer and a few wild boars. Finn would have had another deer; however, it was lost to a flock of Terrible Terrors. Still, the hunter counted the various trips as an achievement since he now had enough meat to sustain him for Devastating Winter.

While his days were filled with hunting, Finn’s evenings were spent gutting, cleaning, and skinning the meat as he took care of the child. The latter of which wasn’t too difficult, since the boy hadn’t shown any signs of waking; which was probably why he had been so unprepared when he walked into his hut that evening. His mind preoccupied with plans to make a stew out of the more perishable pieces of meat he had accumulated that he wasn’t focused on his surroundings.

It was only due to honed battle reflexes which allowed the hunter to catch the tumbling mass. The groan of pain which came from his arms almost had Finn dropping the mass when he realized it was the child he had been nursing back to health in the crock of his arm.   However, his muscles had gone ridged, preparing for a fight and – thankfully – didn’t allow him to let go of the boy.

Finn noticed that most of the color the child had managed to gain back was gone and he was trembling in his arms. The boy’s breathing was coming out in short gasps of breath while his small hand grasping onto the hunter’s arm was weak at best. At the very least, the child had put his healing back a few days with his little jaunt and probably reopened some of his injuries.

“Whoa there, Laddie, where do you think your gonin?” Finn admonished despite how impressed he was with the child. The distance between the bed and the door was vast for someone injured; which the hunter knew from personal experience. Only he had a busted leg at the time while the kid was banged up from head to toe, having been mauled by a pride of Changewings, and was suffering from a high fever due to the infection on top of that. In all honesty, the Viking was astonished the boy had made it as far as he had.

Still, he wished the child had just stayed in bed.

“You’re in no shape to be movin’ about,” Finn warned the kid which only caused the boy to go ridged in his arm. He should have taken that as a sign and been ready, but he hadn’t thought the boy could do anything. The unheeded warning earned him a sharp jab in the gut as the boy erupted in a frenzy of movements, squirming out of his slacked embrace and tumbling towards the wall.

In what had to be an impossible move, the boy had been able to grab the staff propped up near the door and twisted around in the next second so his back hit the wall. His legs then buckled once before collapsing in on himself and the boy slide down the wall, making himself as small as possible while holding the staff protectively between them. Yet the brunet would not look at him and his body began to shake. Finn was afraid that he was going to agitate his healing wounds — if he hadn’t already, which was very unlikely — and tried to reassure the boy.

“Laddie, Laddie, calm down,” the Viking spoke, watching as fathomless amber eyes peered out through messy bangs. The color had him taking a step back, never having seen such a color before and quite frankly, they unnerved him. Moreover, the amber eyes seemed to penetrate through his being to gaze upon his soul, which had a chill running down his spine. Those were the eyes only the oldest of Vikings had and they did not belong on the child before him.

Gulping down his own uneasiness, Finn offered what he thought was a reassuring smile. “You’re safe here. The Changewings are gone.”

No sound escaped the boy as they continued to stare at one another and he gave no indication he heard what Finn said. Fathomless amber eyes continued to gaze unwavering into the hunter’s own dark eyes for a moment more before traveling downward and fixating on his axe instead. The tension in the boy’s body became even more apparent as his breathing speed up and he curled further into to himself. Eyes glistened full of emotions and his grip on the staff became tighter.

Shifting the axe caused amber eyes to follow the weapon’s path and Finn came to the startling realization: the child saw him as a threat.   How could he not? The boy had woken up in an unfamiliar place, injured and alone, with only his last memories for references.   Then the Hofferson had come bursting in carrying a weapon. Of course the child was going to be weary and afraid.

Cursing silently to himself, Finn ever so slowly lowered the axe to the ground while keeping his eyes focused on the boy. He used his ears to identify when the metal clank against the cobblestone and dropping the weapon. During the whole ordeal, the child’s eyes never strayed from the weapon until it fell to the ground. The minute the axe was no longer in his hand, amber eyes darted up into his dark eyes and blinked as he seemed to really examine Finn.

The moment was interrupted by a grumble from the boy’s stomach, breaking the tension as the child ducked his head. The action was too normal in the otherwise abnormal situation and Finn couldn’t help it. The giant gut busting laughter which erupted from his lips could not be contained and he didn’t contain it either. Finn didn’t know how long his laughing fit lasted, but when he was able to get himself under control and look back at the child, he found the boy looking at him with his head cocked to the side and his staff almost resting on the ground.

Seeing it as a good sign, the hunter felt a grin spreading across his face. “Hungry are we, Laddie? Fear not, for you’re in luck; I was just about to prepare a hearty stew.”

Still chuckling, Finn retrieved his axe from the floor and moseyed on over to the table. He dropped the weapon onto the first clear spot he could find with resounding clatter and untied the satchel situated on his hip. Pulling a bowl towards him and determining it was relatively clean, the hunter dumped the perishable meat he had harvest into the bowl and set it aside.

His first order of business was to get the hearth going since it had gone out during his hunting trip. There were a few coals still glowing bright, yet they it wasn’t enough to get a fire going. With some fiddling, the blond finally got the fire going. Although – and Finn didn’t like to admit it – the dragon’s assistance would have gotten the job done in a fraction of the time.

Still, with the fire going, he began preparing the stew; filling the cauldron with snow, cutting the meat, and adding various ingredients into the mix. His eyes would occasionally wonder over to the child as he worked. The boy hadn’t move from his position, huddled near the door and Finn wasn’t sure what to do. He had never had to deal with children save for his niece and she was family. This was completely different and if Camicazi were here, she would have been berating him for everything he had done wrong.

Deep in though, Finn used a little too much force as he chop through the liver, making the boy jerk up and drawing dark eyes to the huddled form. Wide amber eyes were focused on the large cleaver and his staff was once again held up, ready to defend if the need arose. The next chopped had the child jerking back into the wall, but the reaction was as severe since his eyes were already on the potential weapon. His hands only tightening around the staff on the third strike and by the fifth strike, the kid didn’t even move.

After he was finished cutting up the meat, Finn got lost in making the stew, adding the fresh meat while reusing some old bones to add a bit more flavor. He would typically let the stew simmer for a while, if only to trick his mind into thinking the food tasted better than it did; something which was impossible, since the food in Berk was tasteless and the leading cause for tooth loss. This time though, once he was sure the meat was thoroughly cooked, Finn filled the cleanest wooden bowl and headed over to the boy.

The blond knew the frighten child wouldn’t take the food from him directly. Instead, the hunter set the stew in front of the brunet and back away. Amber eyes darted between him and the bowl. Yet the boy refused to leave the safety of his easily defendable position even as stomach gave another gut wrenching growl and Finn wasn’t about to wait for the kid to eat. He had a full day himself and he was starving.

Making a bowl for himself, the blond sat down on one of the two chairs he owned and dug in. The food was bland and tasteless, but it was biting into a bone which had Finn cringing. He had thought he removed all the bones as he was ladling the stew into the bowls, but he had apparently missed one. The hunter glanced over at the child’s helping, wondering if he should check the bowl for any bones only to freeze.

The brunet had crawled forward; the hand holding his staff braced on the ground, supporting his body but clutching the weapon just in case. His other hand was awkwardly holding the bowl to his face as the boy savagely gulping down the stew. Finn couldn’t even tell if the child was bothering to chew the meat, only that he was eating too fast.

“Laddie,” Finn tried, but couldn’t find the right words to continue. He had only been able to force a broth down the boy’s throat in the last few days and the hunter suspected it had been even longer since the child had a decent meal going by his lack of weight. However, the boy was scarfing down the stew like he hadn’t eaten in centuries which wasn’t good for his stomach.

The Viking was soon proven correct when the brunet dropped the bowl and wrapped his arms around his middle. Finn was already reacting, dropping his own meal on the table and grabbing one of the empty buckets for water at his feet. Shoving it under the child’s bowed head, the boy instinctively seized the bucket and emptied his stomach’s contents. Finn thumped his back throughout the whole ordeal and moved the bucket to the side once he was sure there was nothing left in for the child to throw up.

The brunet slumped back, almost falling asleep which Finn took as a sign of the boy’s growing trust in him. Smiling despite himself, the hunter set the bucket outside to dispose of later before gathering the kid up in his arms and taking him back to the bed. This time, Finn made sure to take the staff with him since the kid had gone to great lengths to retrieve it and he didn’t want a repeat performance.

Pulling the brown shirt up and removing the bandages, the Hofferson checked to see what damage the child had done during the day’s adventure. None of the injuries had been ripped open – surprisingly – and overall, they looked pretty good. Still, he put another layer of the grey healing paste and rewrapped the wounds with clean bandages. Finn would give it a few more days before the kid should move about the house without need for concern and a fortnight before he should be trekking across Berk.

Satisfied with the redressed wounds, Finn went back to his meal before puttering around for the evening. Cleaning up his mess and polishing his axe to make sure the elements hadn’t been able to do too much damage while it had been lost in the snowstorm. Once finished, the Viking went to sleep on the small pallet he had been using since his bed was occupied. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but he would be glad when he got his bed back.

He was asleep in minutes, although, he was pledged by troubling dreams. Twisting and turning throughout the night until Finn bolted up right due to a deafening roar. Dark eyes darted around the room, landing on the door wildly banging open in the violent winds. Just beyond the threshold, the familiar Boulder-class dragon moved about indecisively as if to leave the valley before turning back towards the hut only to look off into the distance.

Due to his livelihood as a hunter, Finn took immediate notice of the trail of prints in the snow leaving the valley. His head whipping towards his bed where the wounded child should have been, only he wasn’t there. Another roar brought Finn’s attention back to the dragon which was waddling out of the valley, following the scuffled footprint in the snow. Swearing to the gods, the Viking shoved his feet into his boots and grabbed one of his newly finished tanned furs before running out of the hut.

Following the dragon and the staggered footprints accompanied by little holes in the snow, Finn found himself going in the opposite direction of the village. However he knew he was going in the right direction when a terrifying scream pierced the silence of the night and echoed through the forest. It also had the effect of causing the hunter’s heart to freeze before hammering out of his chest. A second scream and Finn running past the dragon in the direction of the sound, praying he was not too late.

However, when the screams turned into cries and muffled sounds as the hunter closed in, he felt is heart shutter in relief that the boy wasn’t in danger. The relief was shorted live though for when he broke through a thicket of saplings, the blond haired man felt his heart shatter.

The boy had fallen to his knees not far into the clearing, snow built up on his hunched shoulders and hair. The lower half of his body and his crook mostly covered under the lightly falling white flakes from the scattered clouds in the sky. His head was turned upwards, unnerving amber eyes fixated on the full moon peeking through the clouds. What was more, the child seemed to be speaking gibberish; yet, Finn didn’t need to understand the words, he knew a plea when he heard one.

“ _Máni!_ ” the brunet screamed at the moon, no longer speaking the strange language before clasping in on himself. His shoulders heaving as the cries of the damned, the cries of someone who had lost everything escaped from the small form.

Finn’s felt his heart go out to the boy and with a heavy sigh, the Viking dropped the black fur on top of the heaving shoulders of the brunet; sealing his fate.


	4. Despondent Days of Devastating Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, the reviews had me smiling all day long and boast my confidence in this story which was crushed upon watching the new episodes of Race to the Edge on Netflix. Just know, concerning future chapters, I wrote most of them (pretty much all of them now and I'm working on editing) before they even came out and was not influenced by them. So, thank you all who reviewed and made me feel better.
> 
> Secondly, I tend to use wikis and steal characters already created so I don't have to create my own. But I use them for my own purposes, so if they're not in character it is because I can't find how they usually act. Finn is just one of those characters.

Finn once again found himself lugging the pale and shivering form of his unknown guest through the forest. The Boulder-class dragon – which had become a familiar sight – was following lazily behind him. Every third or fourth step, the feverish boy would murmur out a string of gibberish words through blue tinted lips; none of which were understandable, save for the reparative plea to the moon. The hunter briefly wondered if the boy was beseeching Máni to take him away to the moon to wait for Ragnarök there. However, Finn pushed the thought away. He didn’t want to think about the implications which came with his current line of thought.

Instead he focused on getting back to his hut and out of the icy wind. Curses fell from Finn’s lips when his home came into view. He inadvertently had left the door wide open in his haste to find the child and the strong winds had dragged a large amount of slush through the threshold. The hunter had almost slipped on a patch of thin ice that had formed in his doorway and would have ended up on the floor if it were not for the dragon behind him. Thankfully, the Boulder-class dragon caught him on his horn and pushed the blond back up onto steady feet.

“Uh, thanks,” Finn hesitate, unsure how to feel about the dragon. Logically he knew what he should do, throw the creature out and wash his hands of the beast. However, with one glance at the boy in his arms and remembering the dragon standing over him, fiercely protecting the child from the pride of Changewings, Finn couldn’t just get rid of the creature. With a sigh, he moved aside and gestured for the beast to go in. Once through, the hunter forced the door close with a kick from his boot and head for the bed.

He stumbled through the dark room with little trouble and set the boy back in the cold furs of the bed. Finn had some trouble unwrapping the blanket from around the boy, but it was the sudden flinch from the unconscious child halted Finn’s movements. The blond grimace when his eyes adjusted to the dark and he noticed the shadowy patch of color slowly blooming through the brown shirt he had lent the child.

“Oh, Laddie,” Finn sighed with a shake of his head. Standing up, he fumbled his way back to the table, wishing he had left the window opened to let in some of Máni’s light. A sudden idea podded into his head, causing him to look over in the general direction of where he thought the dragon was. “Um… Dragon? Could you… uh… light the fire?”

There was a gruff grumble and some scuffling, Finn wincing when something clattering to the ground. Yet a moment later, a thick layer of lava covered the hearth; some of the half burnt logs catching fire, bathing the room in the flickering firelight. The Boulder-class dragon, now fully visible, grumbled a bit more before waddling over to the base of the bed and plopping down as if to go to sleep; however, one eye was lazily trained on the child.

Now that his work table was visible, Finn easily found the ingredients need to make the herbal paste which worked best against the infections. Although, the Viking had noted in the last few days the paste was working wonders on the wounds. The injuries only had a faint discoloration to them and had been well on their way to being healed. After the night’s excursion, the wounds had been reopened and a clear puss seeping out of the infected area which was better than the black ooze.

Using the brown shirt, Finn mopped up the blood and puss before applying the herbal paste to the boy’s injuries. He finished dressing the wounds with strips of cloth made from the clean parts of his brown shirt. Once the child was redressed in an old faded shirt and covered with warmed furs, the Viking found himself debating on what to do next. He did not want a repeat of what had transpired, yet his body was telling him he needed to sleep after a day full of hunting.

A rumble from the dragon brought Finn’s attentions back to the creature who was staring at him with an expecting look.

“What? He needs lookin’ after,” the Viking tiredly snapped. The dragon grunted and gestured towards his makeshift bed with a pointed look. “Oh, and who goin’ to look after the Laddie while I sleep, you?”

A grumble like purr which could only be described as delight came from the beast as it nodded its head affirmatively. Finn stared wide-eyed at the dragon, unsure of how to proceed.

“You… Serious? You look after the boy? Wake me if any problems?” the blond questioned, running his fingers through the coarse hairs of his beard. Eyes traveling skyward, searching for the answer up there, only to return to the large beast on the floor when he can up empty handed.

Again the dragon grumbled, this time sounding almost exasperated and jerked its head towards the bed once more. The action was more violently and with more force that Finn swore something popped in the beast’s neck.

“Fine. I go, but any problems and you and I will have words, ya hear?” the hunter vowed, his shoulders sagging from the exhaustion he felt. The dragon gave a snort like sighed, but nodded its head. Finn didn’t have to worry though. He was asleep in seconds of his head hitting the pillow.

Waking up was a little bit of a problem but the Viking managed to get up when the dragon started to paw at the door. With a disgruntled moan, Finn pushed himself up and sluggishly made his way over to the beast. The door stuck, but with a hearty tug, it flew open to allow the pile of built up snow to cave in the hut and revealed a wall of snow up to the doorframe.

The dragon was not deterred by the wall of snow blocking the exit. It just shuffled into the snowdrift. The creature was able to pack some of the snow to the sides while the rest of the white powder was melted due to high temperature of the beast’s body. Finn stood there dazed until sunlight drifted through the tunnel of snow. Shaking his head, the blond began his normal morning routine for the days of Devastating Winter.

It was only when he was finished making the morning meal did he realize his guest was awake and had been for some time from the boy’s appearance. The child was seated upright, knees pulled up to his chest and arms draped protectively over them. His chin rest on top of his arms and amber eyes tracked the hunter’s every action. The staff which the boy seemed overly fond of was lying in front of him, well within reach given a moment’s notice.

“Ye awake,” Finn spoke up, nodding his head once in greeting. He continued going back and forth between the hearth and table, ladling the thin lumpy liquid into bowl. Unnerving amber eyes following his every move, his head tilting in a slight inclination when the blond started to ladle the gruel into as second bowl. The corner of Finn’s lips twitched upward at the child’s reaction which soon turned into a frown when his guest flinched the moment he got a little too close.

Instead, the Viking placed the bowl of food on the chair next to the bed and took a few steps back, keeping his eye on the kid the entire time. “How are you feeling, Laddie?”

There was a moment of silence before a silvery voice penetrated the silence. “Fine.”

Finn hated to admit it, but he jerked a tad bit at the feeble voice when the child actually answered. Stopping in mid-step, he looked at the child with wide dark eyes and listlessly fell into the chair next to the table. The hunter hadn’t been expecting an answer, given the boy’s demeanor, but he had felt the need to fill the silence.  

“Well, that good,” the Viking replied, clearing his throat as he tried to come up with something else to say. When he couldn’t think of anything to say, Finn shook his headed and pulled his bowl closer to him. He ate the tasteless gruel slowly as he studied the boy who had yet to touch his morning meal. The child was very confusing – which was to say the least – and the blond didn’t know how to approach the boy or where to even start.

The hunter’s knee bounced up and down as he ate while his eyes tried not to look at the boy but kept drifting to him anyways. Never once did those amber eyes leave the blond and Finn felt himself fidgeting even though he tried to control the impulse. Finally, the blond could not take the uncomfortable silence any longer and broke the silence.

“What do I call you, Laddie?” was the first thing which slipped out of the Viking’s mouth unwittingly.

The questions pulled the boy out of his mind and amber eyes lost the glazed over appearance. A shiver went up Finn’s spine when those eyes focused on him. With the child’s full attention on him, the hunter’s got the feeling the boy could see everything about him, his very being with all his secrets uncovered.

There was a pause and then the silvery voice belonging to the boy drifted through the room again. “Jack…son… Jackson Overland.”

Jackson, it was not a name he was familiar with. Very different than the normal names given to the children of Berk, but Finn already knew the kid wasn’t from the Barbaric Archipelago region. The kid’s unique accent had tipped him off immediately; it was one he had never heard and stood out. Combine that with his bizarre name, Jackson Overland, it was obvious he didn’t come from the archipelago.

“Jackson,” Finn said, tripping over the unfamiliar name, “Wanna tell me what happen out there?”

The brunet’s left hand instinctively moved to his stomach, while his right hand shot out and grabbed his crook. However, his grasp on the staff become lax as his gaze clouded over and his eyes became distant. Flawless white teeth gnawed at his bottom lip and amber eyes were diverted away from the hunter for the first time.

Finally, Jackson shrugged his shoulders, unsuccessfully hiding the grimacing caused by the action. “I… don’t know.”

Finn nodded his head, not knowing what else to do in this sort of situation. He had known many of grown men who had stumbled upon a single Changewing, only to have the rest of the pride surround the Viking and cut their lives short for just being in the dragon’s vicinity. It wasn’t a cause for concern the boy couldn’t remember. Most people didn’t want to remember such an experience, if they had survived and only a handful had.

“How old are you Jackson?” the blond inquired, intrigued at how this slip of a child before him had survived when so many grown men hadn’t. Then again, Jackson did have a dragon to protect him, but there was something to be said about that too. Why had the Boulder-class dragon been protecting Jackson in the first place?

Lips thinned before a heavy sigh escaped the small frame. “Fourteen.”

“You’re a hiccup!” Finn hoarsely whispered, eyes widening and his mouth hung ajar. He had assumed, rather incorrectly, that the kid was ten, maybe twelve at the most. Jackson didn’t appear anywhere near the age of fourteen summers old as he claimed to be. He would give the boy he was on the tall side, but there was no meat on those bones and he was only just starting to lose the sickly pale pallor of his skin.

“A what?” the boy inquired, his voice going an octave higher while both eyebrows disappeared behind disheveled dark brown hair. It was the first sign of emotion Jackson had shown – other than fear – since waking up and Finn would have laughed at the affronted look, except he was too surprised at the display of confusion.

“Ah… a hiccup, is-is ah… the runt of the litter,” Finn struggled through his botched clarification. He hated to admit it, but the reddening of his cheeks had nothing to do with the cold. To call a survivor of a pride of Changewings a hiccup felt debasing and wrong on so many levels.

Glancing at the boy out of the corner of his eye, one blond eyebrow climbed high at the small wiry smile on Jackson’s face.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Jackson’s silvery voice agreed, the wiry smile growing into a full blown grin. Amber eyes, sparkling and teeming with life changed the brunet’s whole appearance from a downtrodden hiccup to something else entirely. His body loosened, one leg uncoiling while the child’s left arm hooked around the knee still pulled to his chest and his free hand was lazily dancing across the wood of the staff. “What’s your name?”

The nonlinear question once again caught the hunter off kilter and he found himself blinking rapidly, not being able to follow the sudden change in conversation.

“Finn Hofferson,” the Viking managed to answer.

“Finn… Hofferson,” Jackson slowly drew out the name, rubbing his chin with a contemplative expression on his face. Finn stiffened at the boy’s tone; it was one he knew well. It was the tone of voice people used when they were trying to recall a certain memory which was usually followed by realized of his detested nickname. “Nope, sorry, never heard of you.”

The building tension was displaced by a wave of relief Finn didn’t even know was developing; yet he couldn’t help but return the sheepish smile currently on the brunet’s face. “That’s alright, Laddie. No one knows everyone.”

The hunter couldn’t be sure, however he could have sworn Jackson snorted and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like north. He wasn’t sure though and decided to let the matter drop.

“So, Finn, can you tell me where I am?” the teenager inquired, amber eyes wondering slowly around the small hut. They would momentarily stop to study one thing or another before moving on to the next item which caught their attention. Finn took notice that the boy was categorizing where all the weapons in the room were or anything which could be used against him.

“The Isle of Berk,” the hunter answered and found amber eyes drawn back to him, brown eyebrows furrowed together, “located in the Barbaric Archipelago.”

“Oh,” was the lackluster response as amber eyes once again began to roam around the room. His fingers twitching as he shifted to sit cross-legged on the bed. Finally, Jackson’s shoulder slumped and his gaze fell to his staff. “Never heard of it.”

The answered surprised the Viking, but it really shouldn’t have. He already figured the boy as a foreigner.   However, for Jackson not to even know where he was, that was out of the ordinary. He should have known he was in the Barbaric Archipelago at the very least with Berk being one of the inner island. Any travelers would have had to stop at one of the other island to restock supplied, so he should have known he was in the Barbaric Archipelago.

There was also something else which was bothering Finn. “Where are your parents, Laddie?”

Jackson froze. There was no better word for it. He didn’t tense up, didn’t twitch, didn’t even breath; the brunet just stopped moving. Finn grew concern but before he could make a move, the child sucked in a deep breath of air before letting it out. He pulled his legs back up to his check, arms wrapping them and hid his face from view.

“They’re dead,” which was the last thing Jackson said for the rest of the day.

* * *

It was a week after Jackson had woken that he had his first official meeting with the dragon he owed his life to. Finn had been making the short but treacherous trek to replenish his stores from his cave when he heard the characteristic yet slightly different roar of a Gronckle. Facing the sound, the hunter caught sight of the not quite Gronckle which he hadn’t seen in the last seven days.

“Where have ye been?” Finn probed for information he knew he could never receive an answer to and yet he was curious where the dragon had been. More so, he wanted to know why the dragon kept coming back. Another question he would never receive an answer to.

The dragon let out a muffled grumble before turning around and waddling towards the hut. Dark eyes rolled at the audacity of the creature and sighed loudly. Shaking his head, Finn followed the dragon to his hut. An alarmed yelp was wrenched from his lips when he ran into the rigid tail of the dragon.

“What in the name of Odin?” the Viking sneered, vexed at the dragon’s abrupt halt. He was surprised; however, when the dragon prodded the snow covered ground before rotating around and dropped something hefty at his feet. It took a few moments to identify the mauled remains as a wild boar. “Ye went hunting?”

The dragon’s little ear-wings flickered and nudged the carcass of the boar into Finn.

“Err… for me?” the hunter tentatively asked which caused the ear-wings to twitch upwards before the creature nodded its head. Raising an eyebrow, Finn set aside the lump of frozen meat he had been caring and kneeled down to examine the fresh kill. “It’s good. Thought the burnt patches and punctures in the hide ruined the fur. Doesn’t look like any of the organs were ruptured, so don’t have to worry about tainted meat. All in all, it’s a fine catch.”

Looking up, Finn was met with a blank stare from the dragon. With another heavy sigh, the Viking heaved himself up and shouldered the boar. With his free hand, he grabbed the chuck of meat and made his way to his hut. The dragon just stood there, not moving as it watched the hunter retreating back. With each step Finn took towards the door, the creature’s little ear-wings dropped lower and lower.

“Well, come on then,” Finn called, holding the door wide open. The little ear-wings immediately perked up and a high pitch growl rumbled from the dragon’s throat. To the hunter’s ears, it sound like the creature was happy. Something he chose to ignore as the dragon waddled its way through the door.

Closing the door, Finn turned to see the child was where he left him. Sitting up in the bed and looking out the opened window up at the half moon in the dawning twilight. Jackson did not seem to register his return and his continuing fascination with the moon disturbed the hunter. It wasn’t the first time such an incident had occurred and it was starting to frighten Finn.

More often than not, Jackson didn’t seem to notice he was around until the Viking had directly addressed the child which would severely startle the boy. It was disconcerting, especially when those amber eyes were staring right at him and the boy still didn’t see him until Finn spoke up. The blond was concerned with Jackson’s lack of awareness to his surroundings, particularly when the difference was between life and death. Moreover, when there was a dragon in the vicinity, one should have the special awareness to be on guard automatically.

“Looks like there’s going to be another storm tonight,” Finn commented, hoping to gain the boy’s attention. At least enough for Jackson’s to be aware of the dragon’s presence. His hope was crushed when the child remained transfixed on the moon.

“No, it’ll pass over. There’ll be another one tomorrow night though,” the boy replied absentminded, amber eyes never leaving Máni’s silvery rays.

The blond looked skeptically at Jackson and shook his head disbelievingly. There were a few times when his guest had said something which made absolutely no sense and he had disregarded those comments. Finn had other more important things to do than worry about the nonsense the child sprouted off every now and again, like preserving the boar meat. Besides, he had lived all his life in Berk and knew what he was talking about. There definitely would be a storm in the night.

Finn was in the process of removing the guts when a distressed yelp followed by a loud thump alarmed him. Whirling around on the balls of his feet, dagger held at the ready, the Viking discovered Jackson on the floor, scrambling backwards towards the wall where his staff rested. In front of the child stood the dragon, just watching the boy, but making no other move. Its head tilted to the side when Jackson grabbed ahold of his staff and held the weapon out protectively between him and the dragon.

Blinking momentarily as he tried to figure out what the problem was, Finn began muttering a string of curses directed towards himself. Of course Jackson would react badly to the sight of a dragon. He had every right to be terrified after almost being killed by the very creatures. Having one in such a close proximity after an ordeal would lead anyone to responding badly.

The sound of the dragger clattering to the table was drowned out by the hunter’s heavy footsteps. Pushing the dragon out of the way, Finn knelt in front of the child blocking his view of the dragon. However, even though Jackson’s view of the creature was blocked, he was still refused to lower his weapon.

“Dragon,” Jackson’s silvery voice was barely above a whisper.

“It’s alright Laddie,” Finn tried to calm the boy down, yet amber eye’s never wavered from his chest. They were fixated directly where the dragon should have been if the Viking hadn’t been in the way. “The big lug isn’t going to hurt ye. He’s the one that saved you from those Changewings.”

“What?” amber eyes darted up to meet his dark eyes, his eyes widening and his mouth slightly agape. Not that Finn could blame the boy, he had never heard of a dragon protecting a human either.

“Yeah, he scared a whole pride of Changewings away, to save you,” the hunter softly reassured Jackson. He was quiet proud of himself when the brunet lowered his staff and Camicazi Hofferson said he wouldn’t be able handle having a child of his own. If he was still living in the village, he would have shown his brother’s wife that he was just as capable of raising a kid as she was.

“Changewings?” Jackson parroted, eyes growing wider as they darted to the side, trying to get a look around the hunter.

“Err.” Okay, maybe he needed a little help with this whole parenting routine than he first anticipated. He hadn’t meant to bring up any more bad memories than seeing the dragon already had and it looked like that was just what he had done.

“What happened to me?” the boy asked breathlessly, eyes once again on Finn.

Sighing, which he seemed to be doing a lot more since he had met Jackson, the blond settled down into a more comfortable position and drew in a deep breath before beginning his tale. The recollection was by no mean long and half way through, he felt the dragon settle down behind him, leaning into his back. Finn couldn’t help but trail off at that point, which had the effect of building up the climax of his story and had the boy leaning towards him in anticipation.

In reality, the pause was because he just grasped that he had knowingly left a dragon at his back and then had proceeded to forgotten about it. He came to the disquieting realization he had grown comfortable with the creature. Comfortable enough to have the dragon at his back without being apprehensive and that was not like him. Finn did not know how to take in this new revelation, especially at this time. Instead, he finished recounting the tale of how he first encountered Jackson and the Boulder-class dragon.

“He saved my life?” the brunet asked, straining to see the dragon around the blond without getting up.

“Yeah,” Finn nodded his head, shuffling to the side to allow the boy to see the creature and keep him from reopening his wounds for a second time. The dragon, having felt the movement, lifted its head lazily and looked around. Seeing Jackson, the creature yawned and dropped its head on its paws and watched them out of half lidded eyes.

“Wait,” the child spoke up, sitting up straight and looking right at him. The abrupt action had the hunter’s shoulders tensing while his fingers curled. Jackson’s saddened interject – the first words he had spoken since the tale had begun – set the Viking on edge and his blood racing. “Is he a boy or a girl?”

“I… ah… I…,” Finn faltered, not expecting the question and not having an answer. He had no idea the gender of the dragon, in his mind he had labeled the beast as an ‘it’ and gone on with his life. Even now, as he was looking at the dragon, he couldn’t tell the gender because he never cared to learn how to distinguish between them. “I don’t know.”

The boy made a discouraged noise in the back on his throat and slumped back down. He laid his hand with the staff in his lap and used his free hand to rub his chin. Amber eyes starred at the dragon as his lips pulled back and brown eyebrows drew together. After a few moments of starring at the creature, Jackson started to twitch and then gave out an exasperated huff as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well, are you a boy or a girl?” the child asked the dragon with a pout on his face.

Finn felt one of his eyebrows rise up into his hairline, not expecting the reaction from the boy. He had spoken to the dragon on a few occasions – well more like giving orders to the dragon – but he had never tried to have a conversation with it. His second eyebrow joined its pair up in his hairline when the creature shook its head and grumbled. The response had the brunet perking up, sitting up straight with a giant smile on his face.

“A girl?” Jackson hazarded a guess, almost vibrating with excitement. The boy gripped the gnarled wood with both hands, bracing it against the cobblestone floor, using it as support as he leaned forward to the point Finn was afraid he was going to topple over.

A low pitched growl followed by a disgruntled snort had the boy sitting back. There was a frown on his face, but it did not make him look angry at all. On the contrary, it made him look adorable, harmless even.

“That is a resounding _no_ , you are not a girl,” the child reasoned as he tried to maintain his frown. Yet, his lips keep being pulled upwards as his excitement from earlier outweighed his ire.

The Boulder-class dragon rumbled and laid his head down, closing his eyes. It seemed the creature was done with this exchange and was going to sleep.

“No need to be a grump about it,” Jackson grumbled right back at the dragon before perking. “I know! That should be your name, Grump. Unless he already has a name.” Turning around, amber eyes focused on the Viking. “Does he already have a name?”

Finn, who had been busy watching the child having a conversation with the dragon like it was an everyday sort of thing, slowly shook his head disbelievingly. “No.”

“Well, do you like the name Grump? It’s going to be your name after all,” Jackson asked, turning his attention back towards the creature. The dragon opened one eye – snorting out a puff of smoke – and closed his eye again, which causes the boy to burst out laughing. It was the happiest Finn had seen the child and it suited him so well. Just looking at him laughing, the natural expression on his face made the hunter think Jackson should never be the still, melancholy boy he had been since waking up. It just seemed so right.

The rest of the night was spent with Jackson chattering away, prodding the dragon and trying to get a reaction out of him. He asked the creature a lot of questions, always getting grunts in response which he struggled to understand. When it was time to eat, the boy turned his attention to him. Finn struggled to answer even half of the enquiries directed his way. Still, it was the liveliest night the Hofferson had in a very long time. One he immensely enjoyed.

In the end, it did not snow that evening.

It did snow the next evening though.

Traversing through the snow to his winter storage cave had become a daily routine when the snowstorms would allow. Keeping his guests and himself feed was draining on his stores, not that Jackson ate a lot. The boy usually only drank the broth from his stews and, with enough cajoling from him, a piece or two of the meat and vegetables. Anything heavier had Jackson’s stomach rebelling and heaving up the contents of his stomach. However, no matter how much Finn tried, he still hadn’t been able to get child to eat two meals a day.

No, it wasn’t because of Jackson he was constantly trekking the distance to his storage supply, but because of the dragon. The beast had drained all of his preserved cod and was working his way through the rest of Finn’s preserved fishes. It didn’t matter the dragon would come and go, being away for days on end, because with one meal the beast could eat through all the fish in the cave if Finn gave him the opportunity. Even then, only a third of the hunter’s trips to his cave were to retrieve food, the other trips were to store additional supplies.

Every time the dragon came back from one of his outings, he would bring back some type of catch. Although, part of the time, the meat from the kills were tainted by ruptured organs. Thus, Finn spent the majority of his free time salvaging what he could. The plan was to have Binn trade what remained of his stores at winter’s end for some better equipment. However, that meant spending the majority of his time cutting and preserving the meat and less time on the furs and hides of the dragon’s catches. It was a waste, but since the meat was a higher valued commodity, it was a sacrifice he had to make.

Jackson – after Finn had all but restrained him to the bed until further notice – had commandeered a buck’s hastily removed hide and begun to remove the flesh and fats still attached with a small dull blade. When the hunter first took notice, he hadn’t said anything since it gave the boy something to do, but he couldn’t help but grimace every time the blade scraped away the lingering pieces of flesh. However, as time wore on and the boy’s grip had changed a few times before settling on one which seemed to be comfortable with, his skill became apparent.

No longer was the child’s hand shaky and unstable. His movements were smooth and continuous with no hesitation as he deposited the flesh and fats into his empty stew bowl. The rather battered area where Jackson had begun his attempt had been cutoff and discarded to the side. Even though Jackson had become familiar with the blade and muscle memory was working in his favor, it was obvious the tool he was using wasn’t right for the job.

“That’s good work,” Finn commented, eyeing the effort it took the brunet to remove a particularly stubborn piece of fat from the buckskin. “Not the best.”

“I know,” the boy agreed using his nails to peel off the particular piece of stubborn fat and flicked it into his bowl without looking up. “Could do better, but you work with what you’ve got.”

“Try this,” the Viking said, pulling a small dagger from his boot. Amber eyes looked up at the refined dagger compared to the crude blade he held. Setting the blade aside, a small hand tentatively took the dagger from Finn – being precautious not to touch the hunter – and heft it up and down, testing the weight. Dragging the dagger lightly over the next patch of fleshy bits, Jackson easily removed a large layer of flesh.

Nodding his head in satisfaction, the boy gave Finn a quick grin. “Thanks.”

“Ye welcome,” the blond replied, watching Jackson for a while longer before returning to the carcass of the boar he was working on. This time, the dragon didn’t put any puncture marks in the animal. Instead, it tore off the creature’s two hind legs and left front hoof was hanging on only by a ligament. The fur was burnt to a crisp and wasn’t worth salvaging.

“You shouldn’t burn that,” the child spoke up, his noise scrunching up when he noticed Finn throwing some of the discarded meat and fur onto the fire.

“There’s no other use for them,” Finn explained, knowing the smell wasn’t pleasant, but it was the only way to discard the materials during the middle of Devastating Winter. The meat would smell much worse if he left it to rot and he wasn’t about to eat it either, the Viking didn’t want to become sick.

“Leave them outside, other creatures will find them useful,” Jackson said with a shrug of his shoulders as he kept his eyes on his own work. “Waste not, want not. If you can’t use it, someone else can.”

“That’ll attract wild predators,” the Hofferson said, knowing from personal experience. He had left the remnants of a kill out during his first Devastating Winter away from the village and a bear had come into his camp. The beast had eaten the scrapes and proceeded to ransack his partially constructed hut for the rest of his catch, and ate that too. Finn had taken the bear’s distracted state as an opportunity to kill it and reclaim his lost meat.

“No, not if you do it right,” the child shook his head, almost nicking his finger due to his distraction. “Just put them in a Rowan bowl with the runes for partnership and harvest carved into the wood and place it in the middle of a small stone circle. No predators will dare to come near an offering not meant for them.”

“And who is this offering to?” Finn asked with a raised eyebrow as he set his knife aside after making a large cut along the boar’s belly. He had never heard of such a ritual and he knew quite a few. The hunter made sure to offer up as much as he could afford to the gods and goddesses every year.

“The Wyldfae,” Jackson said nonchalantly, waving the hand hold the dagger around in some kind of gesture as if it meant something. A quick glance of amber eyes to the side caught the hunter’s confused look causing the boy to shake his head. “Just try it and see.”

“I’ll think about it,” the blond said as he got back to work, having never heard of the Wyldfae before. He was a warrior, not a mystic; Finn knew the major gods and goddesses but very few things else. So these Wyldfae of Jackson’s could very well be summoned by the ritual described. Still the hunter still was unsure of summoning creatures he had no idea about. Instead, he reached into the incision he had created and began removing the guts from the wild boar.

By the evening, the hunter had finished with the boar and Jackson had cleaned all the flesh, fat, and stray hairs from the hide. Finn had looked it over before rubbing an oak tanning solution on the hide and stored it in the cave with the boar meat to keep the smell away while the hide finished curing. While he was outside, the Hofferson took the scraps of fur and meat he and the boy had collected in the day placed in the single Rowan bowl he owned with crude runes drawn on it with charcoal. He then set the bowl in an irregular rock circle and left it there overnight.

In the morning, there weren’t any tracks in the layer of snow – save for his own – near the bowl to signify predators had been around the hut. All the same, the contents of the bowl were gone. He didn’t know what to think, but took the bowl back inside and placed it on the table, ignoring the knowing grin on Jackson’s face. Still, the next time he had scraps he wanted to get rid of, they too ended up in the bowl, placed outside with the same result.

However, that was not the only skill or odd quirk Jackson had displayed during Devastating Winter. As his wounds healed and the Viking allowed him to move about more – though keeping the boy from going outside until he was fully healed, which was a task itself – the child had revealed he was capable of a few more talents. One of which was making clothing. The brunet had used one of Finn’s already finished brown deerskin to fashion a new pair of pants very similar to the ones he had been found in and were lost to blood. However, from the sheer amount of wear and tear, those pants should have been thrown out a long time ago in Finn’s opinion.

Jackson salvage the cords from his former pants which had been used to kept the legs from fraying further and used them on his new pants. Not that the new, pristine deerskin pants needed the cord, Finn suspected the child kept them for a little since of familiarity. Once the pants were finished, the brunet proceeded to make a fitted shirt out of the piece of wool Finn was able to scrounge up. In the end, he wound up with a similar – although lacking in finesse as his original – shirt to the one he wore, less the binding around the wrists.

The child’s skills were nothing Finn worried about though; it was Jackson’s quirks he was more worried about. The hunter noticed the boy would ignore what his body was telling him, forgetting to eat. Or he would be in the middle of working on his clothing only to fall asleep because he just didn’t bother to stop to sleep. Those were only the two of the most worrying symptoms.

Jackson never explained and Finn wasn’t about to prod the boy for more information. There was a story there, he knew but the child deserved his privacy since he gave the Hofferson the same consideration by never asking why he was out here all alone. Instead, Finn force feed the boy during meals and put Jackson to bed when the child fell asleep at the table.

For the first time in a long time, Devastating Winter did not seem so bad. Finn didn’t like to admit it, but he rather like having Jackson and Grump around during what was usually his loneliest season. The time seemed to pass by much faster, it was less trying and – dare he say it – but enjoyable as well. The regular pacing and short attention span that the Viking experienced during Devastating Winter was starved off. He wasn’t extremely irritable from being stuck in his hut for days on end and hadn’t started to contemplating heeding out into the regular occurring superstorms raging outside for something to do. All of which could be contributed to his guests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I have made Jack a fanboy in regards to dragons. Actually, he kind of made himself a fanboy because that part kind of wrote itself and it just stuck.


	5. A Jarring Realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all, you've made me so happy with the reviews and since I was so excited, I couldn't wait until Wednesday to post this. You'll be happy to know, Hiccup comes in next chapter (he was supposed to come in this chapter; however, this chapter was getting really long and I had to break it up). 
> 
> Also, it has been asked why I use 'Jackson' instead of 'Jack'. The answer isn't quite that simple and shall become relevant later, but for now, 'Jackson' is used when it is the Vikings' POV and 'Jack' for Jack's POV. Another question was about age and for now, I'm not saying, it'll be revealed in future chapters.

It was the end of Devastating Winter, or so Jack was told, and his wounds were now only lines of pink skin. Best of all, Finn had finally relented and allowed him to travel outside. There were conditions however and the teenager had reluctantly agreed. Still, it got him out of the small confined hut which was all that matter to him.

In all honesty, Jack hadn’t known how to coup with having an adult around. While Finn wasn’t like the Bennett siblings’ mother – which was one of the few parents the Guardian of Fun was exposed to on a regular basis – who was constantly hovering over her children, the blond man forced the teenager to stay in bed while his injuries healed. He would also force food on the Guardian sometime during the day and wouldn’t let up until he had eaten at least half. Something Jack didn’t think necessary, but Finn was adamant about.

During these times, the eternal teenager wanted to tell the man he had spent over three hundred years taking care of himself and didn’t need Finn’s help. However, the blond probably wouldn’t have believed him since at the moment the spirit was not a spirit. He was mortal, which still had Jack mystified over and with the man confining him to the bed, there was no way for the teenager to figure out his current situation.

The simple restrictions Finn had put on him were for his own benefit – Jack knew this logically, since Emma had confined Sophie to her bed for a few days when she had twisted her ankle for the same ‘it was for her own good’ reasoning – but the boundaries felt binding to the free spirit. Not to mention, the Guardian felt bad about taking up Finn’s bed and having the man worry about him made him feel awkward.

It wasn’t until the last few years Jack had people who would worry about him and it was still new to him when they did worry. Granted he could do without Finn’s worrying since it kept him cooped up in his hut and agreeing to the blond’s terms to for going outside hadn’t seemed bad, at first. The immortal teenager turned mortal had to take Grump with him, which Jack could live with. However, he had fought tooth and nail only to have Finn force those horrible creations on his feet.

Shoes.

Jack hadn’t worn shoes in all his spiritual life and wearing them again was torture. Yet, the man wouldn’t allow him out of the hut without the overly large white fur lined boats on his feet. In the end, he had put them on, not because he wouldn’t have been let outside – he would have snuck out anyways if that were the case – but because he had watched Finn make the shoes over the last few weeks. Jack couldn’t in good conscious not wear them after the man had spent all that time making the shoes just for him; not to mention, they were the first gift he could remember receiving in over three hundred years.

He wouldn’t admit it, but the boots were nice. Stopping above his ankles and when they were bound to his legs with twine, they fit perfectly. Additionally, the boots kept his feet warm and prevented frostbite. Something he hadn’t had to worry about until a few weeks ago, but that was one of many things he had found out he had to worry about once more.

Being human was definitely a different experience. An experience he slowly was having to relearn. Eating, sleeping, the cold, _being seen_ were only the tip of the iceberg regarding his problems. He was used to running around without worrying about such plebian concerns, unlike the other Guardians. But now he had to deal with becoming weak from the lack of food, even when his stomach constantly revolted at having anything inside of it.

That was something else, not having not eaten anything substantial for longer than a human could live didn’t go without consequences. Yet, that didn’t come into comparison with Jack’s exposure to the elements. As a being of winter, the cold never bothered him; he didn’t have to worry about frostbite or hypothermia. Jack Frost only had to worry about staying away from the warmer regions. It affected him to some degree, but he tended to affect the weather around him even more and that just pissed off some of the more temperamental creatures. It just wasn’t worth it.  

Still, his blue hoodie was never need to keep him warm. Jack just liked wearing it. Yet, the large fur hide which he had woven around him like some sort of a makeshift clock was doing nothing to keep the cold at bay. He was violently shivering underneath the heavy layers, but Jack kept moving forward. Skidding down a trivial slope was frustrating when he was used to the winds flying him where he wanted to go. On top of that, the ex-spirit was having a difficult time getting traction with the fiendish boots he was forced to wear.

Thankfully, Grump was right behind him to keep him from falling on his butt. The dragon pushed the brunet to stand straight up and Grump butted his head against the eternal teenager’s side when he was sure Jack wasn’t going to fall again.

“Thanks,” the teenager of over three hundred years cagily grinned, patting the dragon on the head.

However, the fanboy in Jack was still floored over the fact _he_ had actually met a _dragon_ in person. From what he heard, Uther Pendragon had all the dragons killed long before his mother had given birth to him. Only one Great Dragon had survived, imprisoned by the deranged king under his castle for two decades before Merlin released the dragon. There was also another Great Dragon Merlin had helped hatch, but she had turned against the Warlock and sided with his enemy which had her forever being labeled a Betrayer of Kin, her name being struck from history.

Still, Grump did not match either Great Dragons’ description, far from the Great Dragons’ description in fact which meant only one thing. The dragon before him was another dragon to survive Uther’s Purges and, according to Finn, there were countless more around the archipelago. When his mother had been teaching him the history of Camelot, Jack had always wondered why the dragons didn’t migrate to safer lands since his mother always emphasized the intelligence of the magical creatures. The one time he had asked, his mother had just ruffled his hair and gave him a kiss on his forehead, telling him he should never give up hope there were more dragons out there.

Grump was living proof he had been right all those years ago. His existence also presented more questions. Like how had these dragons had stayed hidden so long? They had not only hid themselves from humans, but from the other magical creatures as well. Jack had no idea, then again, he didn’t run into many friendly magical creatures willing to sit down and talk with him.

Although he would like answers to his ever expanding list of questions about the dragons, those weren’t the answers he was currently seeking.   Jack had proof the dragons populated the archipelago, he just didn’t know how he had got to the Barbaric Archipelago in the first place or where the Barbaric Archipelago was for that matter. Both of which were questions three and four on the priority list of questions he wanted answers to, number one and two being was why he was mortal and how did he change back?

“Slow down a little,” Jack shouted at the little orb of silvery-blue light bobbing up and down around the rocks further ahead of him. His shoulders sagged as he used his staff as a walking stick to balance himself as he climbed up the rocks. A sigh escaping his lips as he admitted, “I can’t fly.”

The little orb of light flew over towards him, circling around his head before stopping right in front of his nose. Jack went cross-eyed as he took in the tiny pale form of the whitehaired, blue eyed Dewdrop Faerie. Her transparent butterfly wings fluttered behind her rapidly, scattering silver dust all over the blue flower pedals which were fashioned as a dress. Her tiny little hand came out, patting him on the nose while emitting a soft tinkling sound.

“I’m fine Periwinkle, you just have a flight advantage, that’s all,” Jack reassured the Wyldfae with an obvious affiliation to winter. A soft jingle sound came from the Dewdrop Faerie as she buzzed around his head twice more before darting up around rocks again. The brunet chuckled before following after the orb of light.

Jack was happy Finn had taken his suggestion and had started to leave the scraps of meat and other unless odds and ends in the Rowan bowl. The blond man was oblivious to what was happening to the items and the meaning behind the runes he had marked the bowl with. Yet, he had never asked Jack, if he did, the brunet would have been happy to explain the rune for partnership signaled to the Wyldfae that the occupants of the house were not looking to work against them. Instead, it spoke of being allies and helping each other; whereas the harvest rune was to signify their occupant’s good fortune which was to be shared with the fae of the area. As for the circle, if any faerie crossed it and took from the Rowan bowl, they were entering into a magical agreement to become partners with the owner.

Thankfully, the offerings had paid off and Periwinkle had been the brave little emissary to sneak into Finn’s hut to see what the Wyldfae could give in exchange for the gifts. Jack had immediately taken notice of the small faerie, having been waiting for one and had agreed to a trade with Periwinkle. It was hazardous to one’s health to take from a faerie or any Sidhe – especially a Sidhe – without giving something in return of equal value. He had given the faerie two balls of fluff and in return, she would guide him to the closest magical being.

Jack just hoped the extra pieces of leather he used to bribe Periwinkle with would get her to take him to someone else other than a Sidhe. He did not want to have another run in with the Sidhe Queens, any of them. Titania because she was the Summer Queen and he wielded winter, enough said there. As for Mab, saying she wasn’t fond of him was an understatement. He had openly disrespected Maeve in front of the whole Winter Court and if there was one thing Mab couldn’t stand for, was for someone to make her look the fool and disrespect her, which he had.

In Jack’s defense, Maeve had been acting weird around him. Blinking a lot as if there was something in her eyes and she kept falling into him a whole lot. But what had the current Winter Queen furious was when Maeve had offered to show him her bedroom and he had politely declined. He didn’t see why the Future Queen of Winter took offense. It was just a bedroom after all, what more was there to see other than some furniture and personal items? It was the first and last party he had been invited to.

“Don’t fly so fast,” the brunet had to call out again, after a few minutes when Periwinkle darted around a tree and he could no longer see her. The Dewdrop Faerie came back in sight, flying around the tree rather impatiently. Amber eyes rolled, but he continued to climb and slip over the ice covered ground. Grump always hovering behind him, ready to catch him or bite the overly large fur cloak-blanket Jack donned to keep him from falling.

“She’s not patient, is she?” the teenager complained, going as fast as he could. However, he had to admit to himself, if he could fly, he wouldn’t have been so frustrated with her and himself.

An hour later and what was probably only a mile in travel, Jack was climbing up a ridge and almost toppled down the harsh incline on the other side, down into the cove beneath. Grump, once again grabbed hold of the fur with his teeth and pulled the brunet back from the impending fall. Although, the dangerous vantage had given Jack the opportunity to catch a familiar sight down inside the cove.

“Old Man!” Jack called out, his heart pounding and a large grin splitting his face in two. The burnet didn’t think as he jumped from one rock formation to the next down into the cove. Sliding here and there, he caught himself on the rock ledges. At the bottom of the incline, Jack had gained too much momentum and a rather dangerously sharp rock was right in his path. But, that didn’t stop him. In fact, he increased his speed, shoving his staff into the ground, effectively vaulting safely over the rock and into the cove.

“Old Man!” the eternal teen shouted again, running towards the man near lake. Periwinkle flying behind him, frantically trying to keep up or stop his, he couldn’t tell. Neither did he care, because he knew those broad shoulders and huge frame with forearms nearly as large as his upper arms. The man’s thundercloud colored hair was longer than the brunet remembered and draped over the eye socket which bared a vicious vertical scar. He was wearing furs and metal armor rather than a three piece suit, but still managed to look just as imposing. “Hey, Old Man!”

This time, the man heard him and turned. His one ice blue eye landing on Jack and his eyebrow rose well into the thundercloud colored bangs. However, as he moved, he revealed another man who had previously gone unnoticed, who should have been hard to miss. The man was almost nine feet tall, at the very least, and had a lean athletic build easily seen despite all the black armor he wore. Nonetheless, it was the great savagely pointed antlers affixed to his head, covered by shoulder-length, shaggy, light-brown, grizzly hair, and a pair of steady red eyes which showed him to be anything but human, unlike his companion.

Skidding to a stop a mere few feet away from the duo, Grump yanked Jack back away from the pair. A whine coming from the dangerous dragon while Periwinkle landed on his shoulder and pulled on the brown locks as a reprimand or in fright went undetermined. Although, he did have a decency to blush, because, yeah, the old man allowed him to call him Old Man, but he knew only to call him that in private. Calling him such in front of someone else was beyond disrespectful, even by Jack Frost’s standards.

Grump growled and walked around the brunet, bumping his head against the teenager’s legs causing them to buckle. However, Jack knew a chastising when he heard one, even if it was from a different species. Fiddling with his staff, the former spirit ran a hand through his brown hair and offered up a sheepish smile.

The blue eyed man chuckled, returning Jack’s grin with a slight one of his own. “Do no worry about it dragon, he means no harm.”

“You can understand him, Old M- um, I mean, Mr. Donar Vadderung, sir,” the brunet asked, trying overly hard to make up for his faux pas. He was all but bouncing on the balls of his feet, hand tightening around his staff as his eyes darted back and forth between the two. “Never mind that, I uh… kinda need your help.”

“Donar Vadderung?” the horned man repeated softly, almost as if he was tasting the words as he looked towards his companion with a quirked eyebrow. The one eyed man, Donar Vadderung, just looked back at him and shook his head. It was almost as if they were communicating with each other through their eyes alone. He had seen the Big Four do the same communication technique before too, during battle or even in their everyday lives, but it wasn’t something he was privileged to which left him on the outside. The same feeling Jack was getting now.

“And who might you be?” Mr. Vadderung asked causing Jack’s stomach to drop. Then again, he really didn’t look anything like the spirit which constantly bugged him throughout the centuries. Jack had to keep reminding himself he was human, something which shouldn’t have been very hard. All of the limitation and human needs were constantly reminding him of his mortal form, yet he still managed to forget.

“Jackson Overland,” Jack answered sullenly as his shoulder slumped. Although, he became rather ridged just a few seconds later, when he realized what he said. He hadn’t gone back Jackson Overland in over three hundred years and that was the second time he had introduced himself as such. Jack just couldn’t understand how his subconscious had already latched on to him being mortal, but his conscious mind couldn’t comprehend the changes. Maybe if he had his memories of his first life when he died, he would have had to gone through the same thing, but that was not important now. “But I’m Jack Frost.”

“And what do you want, Jackson Frost?” the unknown man asked, eying him up and down. Jack felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, his instincts going haywire causing his hand to tighten around his crook. He didn’t know this man but he had a feeling Mr. Vadderung’s companion was dangerous.

Periwinkle, sensing his distress, chimed softly and patted him behind the ear while Grump leaned further into his side. The comfort provided by the two creatures along with a few deep breaths had him relaxing his grip on his staff. A few more deep breaths allowed him to center himself while figuring out exactly how much he wanted to say with this unknown present.

“I ran into a Disir,” Jack started, causing the horned man to suck in a large breath of air while Mr. Vadderung had to stifle his jerk of surprise, “and the next thing I know, I woke up human in this place. I don’t even know where I am at or what happened.”

“A Disir?” the dark haired man asked in disbelief, turning red eyes on Mr. Vadderung who was unwaveringly looking at Jack. The horned man turned his attention back towards the teenager, finally taking an interest in the burnet. Jack found that more disconcerting than when the man had been looking down at him in a condescending fashion. He felt like a piece of meat when the dark haired circled him, eying him like some kind of specimen that needed to be studied. The man’s movements graceful and his presence held powerful, even though his facial features reminded the teenager of the hideous asymmetries of goblins.

“Yeah,” Jack confirmed, trying to keep the horned man in his vision but failing miserably. Periwinkle had pushed herself up against his neck, shivering slightly when the man was standing right behind the brunet and caught a glimpse of the tiny Dewdrop Faerie. “She said she was the Disir of the Hooligan Tribe and something about Berk.”

He tried to remember more of what the woman had said, however, his time with the Disir had been short. What she had said was confusing then and hard to remember now. The finer details were clouded over by the pain he had felt immediately before and after. However, he would never forget the way the Disir had looked. Maybe when he got out of this place, he would look her up and introduce her to Pitch. Now, that would be an interesting meeting.

“In Berk?” Mr. Vadderung asked, his eyebrows furrowing together as he tried to make sense of the ex-spirit’s situation.

“I am almost positively sure,” Jack confirmed, even though he didn’t feel as such. He knew the Disir had mentioned Berk, add to it he had woken up on Berk, the woman could have very well been on the isle. He just didn’t have any solid proof.

“There is no Disir in Berk,” the taller man sneered, his lips curing as interest in the teenager turning to distain. Cold eyes narrowing as he came to stand by Mr. Vadderung, giving Jack a dismissive look

“Well, that’s what she told me,” the brunet shot back defensively, grinding his teeth. He barely even flinched when the horned man took a step towards him and held his ground.

“What else did she tell you?” Mr. Vadderung cutoff the growing tension between the two. “If she was, in fact, a Disir, and introduced herself as such, it means the Old Religion found you worthy and she should have passed judgment on you.”

Thinking back harder, Jack had a vague but hazy recollection of something like that. “She said something similar to the effect. Uh… Berk was waiting for me and something like fate seeing it… No, that’s not quite right, it wasn’t fate, hmmm… some kind of goddess associated with color. Err… Gold Goddess? ... No that’s not right, the Grey Goddess… uh-uh… The White Goddess… That was it! She said The White Goddess! I can’t remember the exact wording, but she definitely mentioned The White Goddess.”

Pausing from his rambling, Jack looked over to see the jerk’s mouth hanging open. He couldn’t keep the satisfied smirked from twitching its way onto his face. The man may have been dangerous and powerful, but he also needed to be knocked down a peg or two.

“The White Goddess?” the man repeated, his voice heavy with skepticism as he tried to regain his composure. “She said The White Goddess?”

“I’m getting tired of being asked to repeat myself,” Jack muttered underneath his breath. The tiny angry chimes next to his ears told him he didn’t say it softly enough and Periwinkle pulled on his earlobe as a reprimanded. He got the feeling she wanted him to apologize for his words too. Instead he forwent the apology and spoke up louder for the other two beings to hear him. “As sure as I can be; what with being subjected to enormous quantities of pain and agony right before and after the whole ordeal, it’s a miracle I remember at all. So excuse me if my memories are a little fuzz.”

“The White Goddess, The Triple Goddess, what would she want with a puny little twig of a human like you?” the man snapped, waving his hands in a rough gesture to all of Jack. The brunet bristled and he would have snapped back, consequences be damned. Thankfully, Mr. Vadderung stepped in again and probably saved the ex-spirit from some very unpleasant consequences.

“That’s enough, Lord Herne. If it is true, then it’s The Triple Goddess’s wish and you shouldn’t question her,” the stockier man put his foot down. Turning his attention to Jack, he looked at the teenager with a critical eye. “Did the Disir give you anything?”

Shifting from foot to foot, Jack bit his lips. “She did, but I… kinda lost it in the aftermath?”

“Give me your hand,” Lord Herne demanded making a swipe for the brunet’s hand. Jack was quicker though and moved back, putting Grump between himself and the lord.

“What?” the eternal teenager asked, holding his staff in front of him protectively. “I don’t even know you, nor do I trust you. Keep your grimy hands off of me.”

Periwinkle flew off his shoulder and buzzed around him frantically. Amber eyes followed her every movement, barely keeping up the pulsating orb of silvery blue light. The chimes and rings coming from her becoming louder and more hysterical with each pass.

“Come down Little Wyldfae,” Mr. Vadderung spoke to the agitated faerie. Periwinkle quickly deflated and chimed softly which earned her a smile. He then turned his attention back to Jack. “Now, let me have a look at your hand.”

The old man own hand darted out and took the teenager’s hand. His lips thinned when he turned the smaller hand over so it was palm side up to see dirt and rocks imbedded in the cuts he had received from his constant stumbles. With a weird swirling gesture of the fingers on Vadderung’s free hand, the dirt and pebbles disappeared. Another gesture and the blood on Jack’s hand crawled over his skin. Before wide amber eyes, the red life giving liquid rearranged itself into the runemark array the Disir had given him, complete with tiny little sigils and runes.

Mr. Vadderung swore, Jack wasn’t sure in what language it was in but the man was definitely swearing. Instinctively, he tried to yank his hand back and take a few steps away. His hand wouldn’t budge though; Mr. Vadderung’s grip was soft but had a firm unrelenting hold.

“What? What is it?” Lord Herne asked. Whatever Mr. Vandderung had said, the lord had understood and had peaked his interest.

“He wasn’t marked by The Triple Goddess,” came the breathlessly reply from the man doing an impressive imitation of a statue. His single blue eye fixated on the bloody array and it made Jack wish he could decipher the meaning of the array which held Mr. Vadderung’s attention.

“Ha! So the little runt _was_ lying!” the horned man crooned with a satisfied look on his face. Crossing his arms over his chest, the lord leaned against a tree and smirked in pleasure that he was proven correct.

Jack would have bristled under the intense scrutiny. He would have shouted at Lord Herne and walked away, the answers he needed be damned. He would have looked elsewhere for his answers. He wasn’t given the chance.

“He was marked by magic.”

The statement was delivered bluntly; the repercussion wasn’t.

“ _WHAT?!_ ” Lord Herne shrieked as Periwinkle fell out of the air, landing with barely any noise in the snow beneath her. Grump had become completely still save for his eyes darting back and forth between Mr. Vadderung and Jack. The dragon did step forward and keep himself between the horned man and the brunet when the lord made a move to see for himself.

“I was marked by magic?” Jack asked in an uncertain tone. Finally taking his hand back and examining the blood drying on his hand with narrowed eyes, yet he couldn’t see what the old man had seen.

Although from how the man intoned the word ‘magic’, Mr. Vadderung was referring to the ambient magic – the Magic of Earth – which supported all magical life. The natural magic had no real sentience; it was just there, a foundation for magic to flourish.   In Merlin’s time, the Magic of Earth was strong and prevalent but in modern time, the ambient magic was near dormant with very few exceptions. However, magic wasn’t known to never intervene with one large exception: the birth of Merlin and now, magic apparently intervened on his account too.

Looking up at Mr. Vadderung, the eternal teenager pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side. “What does this mean for me exactly?”

The old man really looked at him before slowly reaching out and taking Jack’s hand once more, pointing at several parts of the array. “From the looks of the sigil here and the runes here and here, magic has deemed you worthy.”

“Worthy of what?” the ex-spirit pushed, looking at the three marks Mr. Vadderung had pointed out. He thought that one of the runes might have been either for life or birth, but he wasn’t positive. The other two were a bunch of lines he couldn’t make heads or tail of.

“Worthy of being an emissary for magic,” Mr. Vadderung explained as he let the teenager’s hand slip through his own. “What exactly magic wants you to do, it does not say. Nevertheless, magic had deemed you are the only one capable of carrying out the responsibility set before you.”

“So, if I do finish this responsibility, then I’ll be able to return to normal, right?” Jack asked hopefully, finally coming to the crux of his problems.

“Normal?” Lord Herne raised an eyebrow, eyes dragging up and down the Guardian’s physique before sneering at what he found.

Amber eyes glared at the horned man, arms crossing over his chest. “I usually don’t look like this.”

“That is the most likely case,” the old man stepped in to break up the impending quarrel, a strained expression on his face but it dissolved so fast the ex-spirit wasn’t sure if he imagined it or not. “However, I can’t be completely sure, but it would make the most sense. The only reason I can think for magic to change you into your current form would be that it was necessary for your responsibility as an emissary.”

Jack nodded his head, the logic behind Mr. Vadderung deduction made sense. Still, he wondering how such a little array could tell the man so much and what the rest of bloody symbol said. There were about ten more sigils and runes, each with their own meanings to contribute to the array as a whole. Before he had a chase to ask about the other symbols, the blood began to rapidly dried and flaked away leaving unblemished skin.

Sighing, Jack looked up with a half-hearted smile on his face. “Thank you for your assistance Mr. Vadderung, you’ve been able to help me greatly.”

A snort from Lord Herne drew the two’s attention to the horned man being kept at bay by Grump. Dark eyes were narrowed on Jack’s smaller form as his sheer became even more pronounced. With another snort, Lord Herne dismissed the ex-spirit and turned his attention on to his companion.

“If that is all, I’ll be going; all this excitement has got my blood boiling. I am go on our hunt, are you going to be joining me or not, _Mr. Vadderung_?” the horned lord asked, drawing out the old man’s name while lacing the words with sarcasm.

“Forgive me, Lord Herne, but I think I shall pass,” Mr. Vadderung stated, his whole body radiating the displeasure his elegant words neglected. “I shall stay here to continue my conversation with Jackson.”

“Fine,” the horned man spat, dark eyes sweeping across them before landing Periwinkle. “Come little Dewdrop Faerie you and I shall go hunting together, your light shall come in handy to draw out the creatures I wish to kill. Afterwards, I will return you to Pixie Hollow where you can regal the other Wyldfae with my hunt. Maybe then, you and some of them will have the good sense to affiliate with summer rather than winter.”

Jack had tuned out the lord’s words, waiting for him to leave so he could talk with the old man without having to sensor himself. Yet the moment Pixie Hollow was mentioned, an icy feeling gripped ahold of the ex-spirit and plunged him into darkness. His ears filled with ringing that had nothing to do with Periwinkle.

“Pixie Hollow?” Jack was barely able to whisper out as a forbidding feeling took root in his stomach and began to grow as he starred at the little Wyldfae. The burnet had to force his lips to move to ask the questions he was dreading the answer to. “You live in Pixie Hollow?”

Periwinkle held her palms up and shrugged her shoulders as she let out a string of soft jingling sound. Flittering up and down incased in an orb of light which did nothing to hide the tiny Dewdrop Faerie’s nod. That was when Jack felt his stomach drop.

“Oh…no… oh no… oh no, no, no, no, no, No! This cannot be possible. This can’t be right!” the ex-spirit exclaimed, looking around frantically before gripping his head with both hands. His staff was an uncomfortable pressure to his head which only intensified as his grip tightened and he sank down into crouch, rocking back and forth.

Seeing nothing more interesting about the mystifying boy having a current breakdown, Lord Herne motioned with his hand for the little Dewdrop Faerie to come with him. Periwinkle hesitated for a moment, looking at Jack before flying over the red eyed man slowly. Wrapping his hands around her, the lord stepped back into the unnaturally shimmering light before disappearing. Mr. Vadderung glared at where his friend vanished which didn’t last long when Jack currently need his attention more.

Walking over to the crouching brunet, he laid a hand on Jack’s shoulder and gave him a small. Despite the physical touch, the ex-spirit did not respond at first. It was only when Grump grunted and knocked the boy over with a light nudge that he was brought out of his mind. Only then did wide disbelieving amber eyes look up into the single blue eye.

“What is it?” Mr. Vadderung asked, his words soft and full of concern after seeing the boy collapse in on himself.

Latching onto the arm currently rest on his shoulder, Jack pleaded with the man. “Tell me, before today, have you ever met me? Please tell me you’ve meet me before this.”

There was a small moment of hope when Mr. Vadderung didn’t do anything. Then, very slowly, he shook his head negatively.

He hadn’t met Jack Frost before.

_‘The White Goddess has seen it once and she shall see it again,’_ the Disir’s words sprung in to his mind with such clarity it had him shivering as their meaning hit him full force. The ex-spirit grasp became nonexistent as his hand slipped from the man’s arm before him and fell lifeless into his lap.

“ _Shit!_ I’ve done a Father Time.”

“A what?” Mr. Vadderung asked in English, forcing the brunet to realize he had slip into his native language and hadn’t spoken in Old Norse. Although, would it simple just be called Norse since he was in the past where Old Norse was current?

“I’ve travel back in time,” Jack bemoaned, letting his chin fall to his chest. Not only had he been turned moral in order to fulfill a task for Magic, he had been sent into the past to do so. It explained so many things, from Mr. Vadderung’s attire to why there were still dragons, all of which because he was in the _past_. Just how far back, he didn’t know, but he guessed it was quite some time since there were dragons roaming the lands.

“How do you know?” Mr. Vadderung asked, pulling the brunet out of his own head and back into the present which was in Jack’s past.

This was getting to be really confusing, really fast.

“Other than Pixie Hollow no longer exists and the fae – all of them – usually live in the Nevernever?” Jack asked bitterly, triggering Mr. Vadderung eyebrows to rise up into his thundercloud colored hair which went unnoticed by the brunet who had curled up into himself. “You and I’ve known each other for a long time. I usually call you Old Man Winter and you’re the one that taught me how to speak Old Norse – er… Norse – and allowed me to bother you endlessly when you had the time.”


	6. Searching for His Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have seemingly lost Wednesday...I don't knew where it has gone. Apparently, I have had two Tuesdays this week. 
> 
> In other reviews, referring to purple tinted eyes back in Chapter 2: blue eyes + red light = purple appearing eyes and that's all I'm going to be saying about that. 
> 
> Also, tricksterach, you get so many kudos for being the first to point out the BCC Merlin allusions going on. You made my day with that review pointing out I was referring to Uther from the series.

Jack didn’t know how long he sat in the clearing, but it was long enough that Grump created a small puddle of molted rock to keep the cold at bay. He hadn’t even realized how cold it was until the heat had brought back the feeling to his appendages. Even then he didn’t move, just continued to stare at his unblemished hand which had his future – past – previously written on it with blood.

Jack Frost was in the past. Actually, Jackson Overland was in the past while he didn’t even know where Jack Frost was. Jack Frost had fallen in battle and a Disir had passed judgement on Jackson Overland. Where that left Jack Frost was in limbo, because he technically wasn’t dead but Jack Frost technically hadn’t been born yet either. It was no wonder Manny hadn’t heard his pleas, he was probably still asleep or recruiting the Guardians to fight against Pitch depending on the time period.

Not wanting to dwell on his current chaotic life, Jack dropped his hand into his lap and turned his attention to the imposing figure sitting on a log across the lava puddle. Now he was really looking at the man he knew as Mr. Vadderung, the ex-spirit could see the noticeable changes time had rot. His thundercloud colored hair was darker than in the future, with more color and less white. Almost like a dark storm cloud ready to cut loose rather than one after the rain had passed. The vicious vertical scar over his eye socket was more pronounced and prominent. Little changes he had failed to notice which made all the difference.

“I noticed you seemed to understand Grump,” Jack broke the silence, catching Mr. Vadderung’s attention. “Can you really understand what dragons are saying?”

A faint smile crossed the old man’s face before he shook his head. “To some extent, I can understand dragons. Being around them for so long, I’ve been able to get a grasp on their language, but by no means is my understanding flawless.”

“Well, it’s better than I can do,” the brunet replied sullenly, looking over at Grump napping to his left and missing the staggered look on the tall man’s face. “I’ve just been able to ask Grump yes or no questions, but that is as far as my understanding had gotten me. Anything more he grumbles and I have no idea.”

“That is not an accomplishment to wave off,” Mr. Vadderung said, not allowing the brunet to wave off his achievement. “Gaining the trust of a dragon is a difficult task, them answering you, even more so.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t say that exactly,” Jack ducked his head yet amber eyes peered through locks of brown hair. “I didn’t do anything to gain Grump’s trust, he’s the one who saved me from what I’ve heard and I was kinda wanting to know why.”

“He saved you?” Mr. Vadderung asked looking between the dragon and him.

“Finn said he found Grump protecting me from some Changewings,” the ex-spirit answered with a shrugged. “Never met him before that, so I can’t understand why he would want to save me. Not that I’m not grateful, because I am.”

“That is rather strange, what have you say for yourself, dragon?” the old man asked, turning his icy blue eye towards the dragon.

Grump opened one of his eyes but didn’t bother lifting his head. He looked around before his eyes settled on Mr. Vadderung with a glare. The dragon yawned but proceeded to answer the old man in a series of high pitch growls and low pitch grunts. The tall man nodded his head the whole way through the explanation, making the appropriate humming and hawing noises in all the right places. At the end, he wore a perplexed expression on his face.

During the whole exchange, Jack keep leaning forward and the only reason he hadn’t fallen on his face was thanks to his hold on his staff which was planted firmly in the ground. “What? What did he say?”

“As I told you before, I don’t have a complete understanding of the language, but from what I can understand is the head of the dragon’s heard found you injured and unconscious,” Mr. Vadderung translated, his tone was even but the burnet could tell he was impressed. “The head dragon tried to assistance you, but couldn’t and instructed this dragon to take you to other of your kind to get healed. Grump – as you call him – was told to stay with you until you were healed.”

Amber eyes grew wider and wider with each passing word, darting over to the dragon sitting by his side. Jack almost fell forward when his grasp on the gnarled piece of wood loosened, but he quickly corrected himself and rocked back in the nick of time. To know both Grump and Grump’s leader had taken in upon themselves to save him without even knowing him for no other reason than he had been hurt and in need of help was humbling.   Gulping back his building emotions, Jack reached out and hugged the dragon around the neck.

“Thank you. You’ve went above and beyond to help me and I… thank you,” the ex-spirit struggled to express his gratitude, his voice choking up as he leaned back and gave Grump one final scratch underneath his ear-wings. Turning watery amber eyes towards Mr. Vadderung, the brunet gave a weak smile. “And thank you for all your help too. I must have seemed like a deranged child running at you yelling, even though you’ve technically never met me before.”

The tall man let out a small chuckle and shook his head. “It was definitely a change from the normal; a breath of fresh air to the monotony that has settled over these lands.”

“I’ve heard you say something very similar,” Jack grinned weakly, whipping away the moisture in his eyes with the back of his hand. “In the future, you would call me a cold refreshing breath of fresh air whenever I come by for a visit.”

“The future, huh? Why don’t you tell me more?” the man with storm clouds for hair inquired; breaking off a limb from the log he was sitting on and throwing it onto the cooling lava. The piece of wood bigger than the brunet’s neck caught fire and bathed them in a soft glow.

Jack twitched, refusing to meet the older man’s eyes as he picked up and threw nearby twigs onto their fire. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Father Time always spoke of noninterfering with the course of history while on his trips. I could very well change the course of history and thus my future.”

“This Father Time of yours sounds like a smart man,” Mr. Vadderung commented after a moment of silence. “But magic sent you here for a reason: to undertake a mission. You’ll have to interact with this time to complete your duty before magic will release you.”

The ex-spirit stalled at that and looked up from the ground. The man had a point, magic had sent him here and even the Disir had said something to the effect of seeing it happen again. So, maybe, whatever he did in this time period wouldn’t affect the future because he was already a part of the past. Meaning if he didn’t interact with this time, he would be the one to change his own future.

“I guess you’re right,” the brunet said slowly, still trying to work his mind around the whole situation. Jack really disliked time travel. It made his head hurt.

“If you’ll feel more comfortable; how about we remain with the subject of you and me? Does that sound reasonable?” Mr. Vadderung asked. He waited patiently as the brunet to mull it over before receiving a tentative nod in answer. “I taught you Norse you say, what more did I teach you?”

“Just a few little things here and there,” Jack evaded, figuring telling the future Winter King he had taught a new spirit how to control his wintery touch might be pushing the timeline’s elasticity a little too much. “Mostly I ranted to you about the unfairness in the world and in return, I listen to your stories about your sons when you feel like sharing. You were especially fond of telling me the tales of Vikings and your various descendants. My favorites are those of Loki and the various descendants of Váli. Although, in the last few decades, you’ve become rather busy with running Monoc Securities and I haven’t seen much of you.”

The ex-spirit brought the tale to a close, seeing the tiny shifts in Mr. Vadderung’s posture which betrayed how ill at ease he was. Jack had not meant to make the tall man feel awkward, but his despair at being neglected by one of the few people who acknowledged his existence must have colored his words.

“I’m sorry,” the tall man awkwardly apologized for something he hadn’t even done yet. “I don’t think I meant to push you out. You seem like a good kid.”

“It’s okay, at least you were there for me when I needed it the most,” Jack waved him off with a smile on his face, showing that there was no hard feelings.

Vadderung returned the smile with only a slight trace of lingering unease. “How about you tell me more about yourself, Jackson Overland or is it Jack Frost?”

“Both,” the ex-spirit replied; although, he was more Jack Frost than Jackson Overland. With only a handful of his mortal life’s memories to work off of whom he had been, Jack Frost’s life experience made up the majority of who he was currently. “But in the future, you get to know Jack Frost. How about I tell you about Jackson Overland?”

“I’d like that.”

The brunet couldn’t keep back the giant smile on his face; he had wanted to tell his friend about regaining his mortal memories in the future. However, the last few time he had tried to even get close to Monoc Securities, he had been turned away from the various immortals the old man had working for him. Being able to tell even a past version of Mr. Vadderung would make his day.

“Well, my Mom was a Druid from Great Britain. Most of the settlers were wary of her, thinking she was some kind of witch who practiced Black Magic because they were idiots who didn’t know any better. I did any and all odd jobs around the village to earn a living for my mother and sister since my father wasn’t around much. If anyone had a job they didn’t want or have time to do, they’d pay me a couple of coins and I’d do it for them. I actually learned a lot that way, but I was never able to master any of the trades. My sister used to call me Jack of All Trades, King of None…”

They spent hours in the little cove, Jack falling in a sense of familiarity and security he had been missing since waking up without his powers. It was just like he was back in his own times, him pratting on about nothing and Old Man Winter listening, asking a few questions here and there. It was nice for the time and the ex-spirit wished it would last.

* * *

 

Life went on for Jack as he struggled to figure out what exactly he was supposed to be doing for magic, yet he was no closer to the answer. The superstorms of Devastating Winter were at an end and the seasons were in the process of changing. In the last few days, the ex-spirit had finished a few projects for Finn. He made a few new articles of clothing for the blond out of the finished furs and leathers. When he was done with Finn’s clothing, Jack created a few accessories for himself with the scraps.

After scratching up his hands searching for answers, the need for some protection became apparent. Some white cloth and spare thread and Jack had a pair of arm warmers which wrapped around his hands and arms, secured in place with leather cords. Not only would they keep his hands warm, but protect them from getting injured again.

Other than helping around the hut, the brunet spent his time exploring outside when the weather permitted it. The cove he had met Mr. Vadderung in was one of his favorite places to go, the small lake in the center had an abundance of freshwater fish and if he was lucky, he could catch a few for a decent meal. However, with it being so far away, the trip couldn’t be made often with the snowstorms. Instead, Jack found a cliff which hung over the ocean not too far from Finn’s hut. Today though, he felt the need to stretch his legs and the longer trip to the cove was in order.

“Hey Finn,” the brunet called out as he pulled the black bearskin blanket around him and checked to make sure he had everything he needed on him. “I’m going to the cove to do some fishing. We’re almost out of fish and Grump should be to coming back soon. I’d imagine he would really appreciate some fresh fish when he gets here.”

“Alright,” Finn said, throwing Jack’s boots towards him before going back to sorting through the various furs, leathers, clothing, and accessories they had accumulated during Devastating Winter. “But don’t be out too long, that niece of mine I’ve been telling you about is supposed to arrive either today or tomorrow and I’d like you to meet her. It’s not good for a boy your age to have only an old man as company.”

The ex-spirit grimaced, but grabbed the shoes and hoped up onto the table to pull on the boots. “Shouldn’t that be the other way around?”

“What was that?” Finn asked, looking up. The brunet froze and looked up from tightening the cords on the boots, realizing he had spoken out loud again.

“Nothing,” Jack mumbled, ducking his head and pulling on the second shoe. He really needed to stop doing that now there were others around to hear his ramblings. “I won’t be too long, but I can’t promise anything.”

Jumping off the table, Jack readjusted the fur pelt around his shoulders once more and made a mental note to make a cloak for himself soon. He had put it off, thinking he wouldn’t be in the past all that long. However, being mortal and subjected to the icy cold grip of winter, the ex-spirit needed to reevaluate that plan of action. He didn’t want to resign himself in staying longer than he absolutely had to; but if he was going to be going out on a regular basis, he really needed to have a cloak.

Grapping his staff and skipping out the door, Jack dropped the remnants of his morning meal into the Rowan bowl just on the other side. Almost immediately five different colored orbs of brightly burning light peeked through the snow and rock faces before darting towards the newly filled bowl. Running out of the valley, the ex-spirit yelled over his shoulder at the gathered group of Dewdrop Faeries.

“If any of you know where I can get something to make blue dyes, I’m willing to make a trade for it,” Jack call back. Almost immediately, a ball of purple light perked up and fluttered about for a moment before forcing its way back into the mob of lights surrounding the Rowan bowl. The action alone told the brunet he already had a taker for his trade. He just hoped he had something the little Wyldfae would be willing to trade for the location of the dyes. Maybe he could find something on his trip or he could make another tiny winter coat out of snow hare’s fur.

Leaving the valley, Jack dragged the crook through the snow in hopes of turning up anything useful. He was able to find some grubby critters he could potentially use for bait and decent size shiny stone. The latter of which he knew he could use as trade with one Dewdrop Faeries or another. They had a love for shinny objects.

The eternal teenager put the grubby critters in one of the two pouches hooked on the back left side of his newly finished leather belt while the shiny stone went into the matching leather leg holster strapped to his right leg. He continued on, weaving his way through the sleeping trees. Every once in a while, he tap the end of his staff against at branch and run under it as the dislodged snow sprinkled down.

Reaching the cove, Jack climbed down the rocks and headed straight for a large bolder that hung over the deeper waters. Prior experiences had showed him the fish tend to hang around that part of the lake more than anywhere else. Plopping down, the brunet dangled his legs over the edge and pulled out some twine from his belt pocket along with the wooden hook he carved.

Long nibble fingers worked on tying the twine to the hook and then tying the opposite end to the butt of his staff. Jack then pulled out a particularly plump grub from his collection and speared it onto the hook. With a flick of his wrist, the twine and the hook flew out into the fresh water and landed with an inaudible plop. Amber eyes watched the little ripples created reach the shoreline before traveling back to where his line met the lake’s open waters.

Looking into the murky blue waters, the ex-spirit found the water lapping gently against the shore serene. At the same time there was a sort of chaos in the serenity created by the swirling winds around, disturbing the natural order of the water beneath his feet. Jack sat up straighter when he felt the familiar touch of the cool zephyr. Amber eyes closed for a moment, allowing the brunet to forget all his worries and pretend he was back in his own time with white hair and blue eyes. He could almost imagine flying through the clear skies and creating a flurry of snow in his wake.

The winds curiously ruffled at his hair which brought Jack crashing back to reality. Amber eyes snapped open as the winds raced away from him and danced across the lake out of reach. So unlike the winds Jack was acquainted with, those which would wrap around him in a caring embrace in a brief greeting before heading off. They hadn’t tentative reached out to him with small wisps and playful gusts since he had ventured out of Burgess with its help for the first time.

Breathing out deeply, the brunet watched as the winds picked up a few twigs and small pieces of debris and put on a show for him. Obviously the winds detected his changing moods and the display in front of him was its attempt to get him to cheer up. Even in the past it seemed the winds were proficient at picking up his true moods with accuracy and act accordingly. The winds were adept at making him feel a tad bit better to the point there was a tiny, sincere smile gracing his lips. But more than anything, he wished the winds here knew him.

That was the dilemma, the winds didn’t know him. Mr. Vadderung didn’t know him. No one knew Jack Frost. Yet, having Mr. Vadderung and the winds present – even without their knowing him – gave Jack some consistency in his life. Something he desperately needed to made the trip to the past somewhat bearable and it kept him from doing something completely stupid. With their presence, he had been able to stay in the past for almost six week, granted, four of those weeks had been spent in bed healing. Another aspect of being human he had forgotten about.

As a spirit, the eternal teenager had been hurt plenty of times, but his body could endure though it. He could use his ice as bandages, splints, or whatever he needed when needed it. Then, with a little sleep by his pond under the light of the full moon, he would be as good as new. As a human, Jack didn’t have his ice and his body wouldn’t tolerate the pain. Neither could he go to his pond for a rest nor would Manny use his limited powers to heal some random child when he had Pitch to worry about.

“Hey,” Jack yelped out in surprise and a tad bit of glee mixed in when his staff was almost jerked from his lax grip. His reflexes kicked in and he fortified his hold on the wood. Reaching out to the twine, the brunet used his right hand to pull the line in. At the end, there was a pike the length of his forearm and almost just as wide.

“Not bad for my first cast,” Jack said, please with his catch. He proceeded to knock the fish unconscious with a well place jab of his staff and then added more bait to his hood.

The brunet continued to fish for a few hours, getting quite the haul of fish and the motions became rather repetitive to the point it he could real in, stun, bait, and cast without a thought. Which was good for him, since Jack’s mind was elsewhere; he was currently occupied with filtering through the possible jobs magic wanted him to complete. Whatever he had to do, it had to be nearby, since magic wouldn’t drop him in the archipelago and miles away from where he needed to be. At least he hoped not.

Even now, Jack wondered why magic picked him. What made him so special that magic chosen him out of everyone else? Why send him – who knows how many years – into the pasted when magic could have just chosen someone from this era to complete whatever the task was?

“Couldn’t you tell me what I have to do? Just a little hint, that’s all I’m asking for? A nudge,” Jack pleaded, looking up into the sky for any sign someone up there was listening. When nothing came, the brunet let out a deep sigh and slumped down. It had been worth a try.

Not wanting to dwell on the negative, the eternal teenager decided to enjoy his day. Jack got lost in the respite of fishing and relaxation that he didn’t hear the heavy, but cautious steps of a large predator sneaking up on him. He didn’t register the new sounds the animal was making; his mind adrift on the calmness he felt and all else was background noises pushed to the side. However, the brunet couldn’t ignore the new arrival when he had finished pulling in another fish only to have a large, black snout bumping into his hand.

Turning around, amber eyes stared straight into huge bright green eyes with large pupils encased in black scales. Next, he noticed a pair of large mobile ear-like appendages – directed towards the sky – on the creature’s head along with a few smaller nubs to the sides and back. His eyes drifted down the short neck to down the sleek body, stopping momentarily on the large pair of bat-like wings before drifting down. There was another pair of smaller wings near the base of the long tail and Jack could see two wing-like tailfins at the end of said tail. One of which was clearly a prosthetic; the bright red of the tailfin tipping him off.

It took a moment for his brain to process what was going on in front of him, but when it did, it realized there was a large black dragon less than a foot in front of his face. They stared at each other; the dragon tilted its head to the side and opened its mouth to reveal pink gums. Suddenly, a full set of sharp teeth extended from those gums and snatched the fish Jack still held right out of his hands. Only as the dragon was retreating did the gears in Jack’s head started to work properly again and he react without much thought.

“Hey!” the ex-spirit shouted, lunging for the stolen fish. He was lucky enough to seize the tail with both hands; the down side was the black dragon had its teeth sunk into the fish’s head.

“Give me back my fish,” Jack growled out, yanking at the tail to no avail. Leaning back provided to be a mistake, as the dragon promptly released its hold and the brunet went toppling backwards.

Acting on instinct, the teenager let go of the fish and threw his arms out behind him to brace his fall. He could feel the rocks dig into his palms. Thankfully, his arm warmers exceeded his expectation and kept the earth below from ripping through his hands. They did not, however, keep him from feeling the pain piercing through his whole backside.

“Toothless!” a nasally voice screeched and Jack felt, more than saw the black menace move towards the new voice, but stopped within a few steps.

The ex-spirit heard the hurried, uneven foot falls of someone with an injured leg coming his way. Not that he cared; he was still dazed from the fall and turned his head to the side to see his staff resting on the edge of the boulder. A harsh frown crossed his face when he noticed his fishing twine had been broken in the scuffle and the hook he had carved had been lost to the waters.

“Are you alright?” the nasally voice asked, as a hand was shove into Jack’s line of sight. The brunet just gazed blankly at the hand while his own hand reached out and wrapped around his own staff. With a swift motion that only came from years of practice and muscle memory, Jack swatted the hand out of his way with the crook.

Depositing the gnarled piece of wood by his side, the brunet brought his legs up to his chest and braced both of his hands on either side of his head. Jack then rolled all his weight on to his shoulders and kicked up at the same time he pushed down with his hands. The momentum launched him up and, by shifting his weight, he landed on his feet. With his boot, he flipped his staff up and seized it from the air. Amber eyes sharpened on the teenager before him who was wordlessly opening and closing his mouth, which was not a very good first impression.

The other boy was older than Jack’s own perceived _fourteen years_ , his deep green eyes betraying his age. Granted, the new arrival was an inch or two shorter than the Guardian. His skin a healthy beige color with a number of freckles on his cheeks but it was a pale white scar just below his bottom lip on the right which drew amber eyes. Ear length auburn hair was parted to the right which suited the rather scrawny – but heavier built than the eternal teenager’s own – frame.

The boy wore a light green tunic with long sleeves bond at the wrists by the leather cords and a brown cloth belt around his waist. Over the top of that he wore a dark brown fur vest for extra protection and wool pants a shade dark than the color of his tunic. However, what really held Jack’s attention was the one furred brown leather boot and the opposing metal contraption from his shin down on the teen’s left leg.

“Um… hey,” the auburn haired teenager stammered as he was finally able to produce actual words.

“Is that your dragon?” Jack interrupted, jabbing his crook towards the black menace. Green eyes followed the direction the staff was pointed in and winced when he saw the dragon slurping down the fish the ex-spirit had fought so valiantly for. The pile where the rest of his haul had been was nowhere to be seen.

“Yeah,” the teenager confirmed; green eyes gazing down and to the side. His shoulders slumping as he rubbed the back of his head with his left hand. “He is, but I can assure you that Toothless didn’t mean any harm.”

“No harm?” the eternal teenager asked. A memory from his mortal life flashing to the forefront of his mind; he was holding his sister, rocking her back and forth as she cried from the pains coming from her stomach. The house was empty of food and would be for days to come, but there wasn’t anything the colonial boy could do to help his family, to help his little sister who he was supposed to protect.

Jack came out of the newly recalled memory with moisture in his eyes and phantom pains of hunger. His nails would have been drawing blood from the palm of his hands had it not been for his arm warmers. Upon seeing the _boy_ in front of him, the brunet could not keep his anger at bay.

“What do you call eating all my food is then, huh?” Jack growled out, thumping the butt of his staff on the boulder.

The auburn haired teenager reeled back, as if it had been him who was hit and not the boulder. His black menace of a dragon – who had been standing behind the teenager – hunkered down and bared those sharp white teeth. The only reason the dragon didn’t out right attack Jack was because of the hand the boy placed upon the menace’s head.

“Look, I’m sorry,” the green eyed teenager started to apologize, “I’ll-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” the brunet snapped, cutting off whatever the other had to say. Jack knew he needed to calm down. He needed to take a step back and cool off.

“Look, I can-”

“Not. _Interested_ ,” Jack snarled as he twirled his staff upside and began to untangle his line as a way to distract himself. Once it was free, he wound the twine up to prevent it from becoming tangled mess again. “Just go back to wherever you came from and leave me in peace.”

“There’s no reason to be rude,” the comment had the eternal teenager freezing as he put the twine back into his back pouch.

Jack had tried to rein in his tempter, he really did, but the last comment shredded his self-control. Amber eyes looked up through messy bangs, fixed in the harshest glared the Guardian of Fun could muster. He drew slight bit of satisfaction when the auburn hair teenager took an involuntary step back into the dragon. The black menace bristled and emitted a low, threatening rumble.

“Rude?” came the icy cold, yet faint, silvery voice through gritted teeth. “ _Rude_ is your dragon eating all my food; food that could very well mean the difference between life and death in certain circumstances. Now if you excuse me, I have to restock _my_ supplies that _your_ dragon devoured.”

With that, Jack angrily pushed passed the two menaces and headed out of the cove. He had used the last of his bait and needed more if he wanted to catch any fish for Grump. Not to mention, he needed to stop off and get the second hook he had been carving. Afterwards, he would head to the cliffs to do some more fishing. At least there, no one would bother him.


	7. Let the Son of a Chief Live a Little

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yea, the second reference was caught by Anon~ regarding the Dresden Files! Kudos for that and now my headcanon for the magical aspects of this story has been revealed for what they truly are, a combination of references from BBC Merlin and Dresden Files. 
> 
> Here's the next chapter. I wonder if any of you can pinpoint where I'm picking up in the HTTYD's universe (and just so you know, I don't read the books).

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III was sixteen summers old. He was the Conqueror of the Red Death, Head of Berk’s Dragon Training Academy, the Hero of Berk, and he was being treated like a little kid. His father, Stoick the Vast, the Chief of Berk had grounded him and rest of the Riders of Berk like they were children. Literally, his father had put a ban on flying after Alvin the Treacherous had kidnapped Toothless and him with Mildew’s help.

Instead of being able to train and prepare for Alvin imminent attacks that were sure to come, Hiccup was stuck manning the forge. He couldn’t even leave the blacksmith shop, since he was the only one running the store. Gobber the Belch – Berk’s blacksmith and his mentor – had been gone for a whole week and the teenager didn’t know where. The man had Hiccup give him a lift on Toothless up into the mountains and drop him and a cart off. He had said he was going to collect supplies, but the young Viking didn’t know what supplies Gobber could be collecting with Devastating Winter at an end.

However, the chief’s son wasn’t preoccupied with the day a week ago because he had dropped off his mentor. Hiccup was fixated on that day because of what had happened after he had left Gobber but before his father had banned flying the moment Toothless had landed in the village. No, the auburn haired teen was obsessed over what had taken place at the cove.

When they were flying back to the village, a glistening purple light twinkled below had caught Hiccup’s eye. Toothless had promptly given chase when his rider had pointed out the flickering light.   The problem came from the thick forest which hindered their search and reduced their speed. Hiccup had forced the Night Fury to land and they had continued the search on foot. Not too long afterwards, the young Viking noticed the black dragon was no longer close by.

Hiccup had been worried at first, thinking the purple light had belonged to the Outcasts and they had somehow kidnapped Toothless again out from underneath him. Yet, the auburn haired teenager had calmed down once he noticed the trail of Night Fury tracks leading through the thick layer of snow. He had followed the footprints to the cove he had first meet Toothless in and had the unfortunate timing of finding said dragon trying to wrestle a fish out of some stranger’s hands.

Toothless, upon noticing his presence, had immediately let go of the fish and sat up straight, his ear-plates flickering up before the left plate twitched to the side. The stranger, on the other hand, went flying backwards and Hiccup had to wince as the brunet impacted with the ground. An exasperated moan of the Toothless’s name had the Night Fury’s ears-plates drooping as he hunkered down into himself.

Hiccup chosen to ignore Toothless for the time being. He would take care of the troublemaker latter. His current concern was with the stranger sitting a hair’s breadth away from falling off the boulder and into the lake which never seemed to freeze despite the cold winter chill.

Getting his real first look at the boy, the auburn haired teenager was stunned to find someone he knew wasn’t from around the archipelago. The boy’s brown hair wasn’t uncommon, but it was the shocking pair of amber eyes which gave away the boy’s different ancestry. Hiccup had never seen such eyes before and there was just something about those eyes which held him captivated.

The enchant state which had fallen over the young Viking was broken when the other boy batted his hand away with a piece of wood. Although, his jaw dropped when the brunet proceeded to do an incredible maneuver, jumping to his feet in an astounding display of refined body control and grace. He then continued on his unwitting display of elegance by propelling the piece of wood – which turned out to be a staff – from the ground up into the air with a kick. The boy then caught it without taking his eyes off of Hiccup.

Nevertheless, it was the brunet’s words which affected him the most. Hiccup had caught himself a number of times in the last week wondering if the fish Toothless had eaten were truly all the food the boy possessed. With the end of Devastating Winter and the boy being a foreigner, he most likely didn’t have a lot of provisions left over. The notion the fish had been all the brunet owned sent the chief’s son’s stomach plummeting. He might have very well caused the boy to suffer without meaning to.

“Hey Hiccup,” a familiar voice pulled the auburn haired teenager out of the now regular track of disheartening thoughts. Setting aside the hammer he had been using to beat a glow red piece of iron into no particular shape, Hiccup safely dropped the iron into the water tub and turned his attention to the front of the shop.

There stood – in Hiccup’s humble opinion – a sensual young shieldmaiden. Her features were slim but the village’s runt knew from experience those delicate feature’s hid her true strength. She wore a brown leather band across her forehead hidden partly by fair blonde hair pulled into a long tight braid which went down to the middle of her back. Her long bangs fell into surly steel-blue eyes while her small button nose was scrunched up and lips thinned. The shieldmaiden had skull emblazoned shoulder pads attached to a tight grey wool shirt with a spiked leather skirt over the top of dark blue pants and brown boots. Cloth strips were wraps from her elbows down to her fingers to complete her ensemble.

Astrid Hofferson; his kinda, sorta girlfriend, but not really. Actually if he was to think about it, Hiccup wasn’t sure what they were to each other. They had shared four kisses: one on the cheek after he had first given her a ride on Toothless, his first real kiss after he defeated the Red Death, then she kissed him during Berk’s first Snoggletog with dragons, and finally, after this year’s Thawfest games when he threw the race to Snotlout. But other than those kisses, there had been none of the Hairy Hooligans Tribe usual courtship traditions. Hiccup just didn’t know where they stood, the kisses said one thing, but the lack of courtship customs said the exact opposite.

Next to Astrid, stood Fishlegs Ingerman; Berk’s resident dragon enthusiast. Like Hiccup, his skin was covered in freckles which were partly hidden by the rosy color in his cheeks. He had Berk’s characteristic light coloring, green eyes and unkept dirty blond hair that peeked out from under the simplistic Viking helmet on his head. Along with his helmet, he wore a large, sleeveless brown fur coat with dark green woolen pants and yak fur lined boots.

Despite his various shortcomings, Fishlegs was the smartest member of Berk’s Dragon Training Academy. He could have been the strongest member as well, being the largest in the group in height and girth. However, the Ingerman was also the quietest and most cowardly member of the Academy which made being the strongest moot.

“He-ey Astrid, Fishlegs,” Hiccup drew out his greeting. He knew why they were here and he knew they weren’t going to like his father’s unwavering pronouncement. “How’s it goin?”

“When are we going to resume dragon training?” short and to the point, that was Astrid asking the hard questions. Didn’t mean the chief’s son had the answers she wanted.

“I don’t know; when my dad has come back to his senses. Who knows?” the auburn hair teenager shrugged as he led the two into the back of the stall to where his worktable lay cluttered with various sketches and half constructed prototypes. “But it wouldn’t make much difference if he lifted the banned in an hour, I promised Gobber I’d run the shop until he gets back.”

“He’s not back yet? I thought he’d be back by now,” Fishlegs commented looking around the forge as if the blacksmith would jump out at him, which could have very well been the case if the older Viking was there. He had done it before and the blond Viking was scarred for life.

“No,” Hiccup shook his head, cleaning off the papers he left on the bench, “he’s not, and I have no idea what he is doing,”

“He didn’t tell you?” Astrid sat down on the now clean bench. Fishlegs, on the other hand, became occupied with the miniature scale model of a new design for Toothless’s tailfin he had picked up off the workbench and began fiddling with it.

“Tell me what?” the teenager asked, dumping the papers onto the unused worktable across from his own.

“Gobber’s doing a favor for my da,” the shieldmaiden replied, snatching the mini tailfin away from Fishlegs when he almost dropped the prototype. She took a look at the piece before putting it back on to the workbench.

Hiccup winced when he saw the current state of the tailfin; at least it had already turned out to be ineffective. “Oh, well that’s kind of him. How is your dad by the way? He broke his leg, right?”

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Astrid crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. “Ma’s threatening to break his other leg if he keeps on trying to get out of the house and ‘hunt down that traitorous filth Mildew’. She already broke his thumb to prove her point.”

“So, it’s true?” Fishlegs asked sucking in a quick breath. His hands wringing the fur of his tunic as he leaned in closer, waiting anxiously for more. “Your dad caught Mildew leaving and he pushed him down the mountain?”

“Naw,” the blonde waved her hand, “it was off a cliff. But at least we know Mildew is a traitor and not a prisoner of Alvin. Else you’d be trying to rescue him.”

“I’m not that bad,” Hiccup whirled around from tidying up the smithy, vigorously shaking his head. However, upon seeing both of the blondes share a knowing look with one another, a frown found its way on to the auburn haired teenager’s face.  

“You have a hero complex, you’re that bad,” the heavyset teenager nodded his head sagely.

“No I don’t,” the chief’s son denied, his voice a little higher than he wanted. Hiccup consoled himself with the fact his not quite yell was due to the growing chatter flowing in from outside and not his refusal.

“Toothless, our dragons, _Heather_ ,” the last name was spit out, “need I continue?” came Astrid’s rhetorical question as her fingernails drummed against the bench. With each repetition, the force between the tapping became stronger and louder until she broke a nail and let out a hiss of pain.

“No, no, no…you don’t. I get it; we are good and we can move on,” Hiccup said with such finality that for once the others listened to him. He chose to ignore the silent communication going on between Astrid and Fishlegs. “Back to the subject of dragon train, I have an idea, but…”

“But?” Fishlegs hesitantly probed, looking back and forth between the blonde and the auburn haired teenager nervously. He had had a feeling he wasn’t going to like why the Head of the Dragon Training Academy was going to say. The last few times had worked out well in the end, yet he had been a nervous wreck the whole way.

“It involves going behind your dad’s back. Doesn’t it?” Astrid guessed while she examined her broken fingernail.

“Well,” Hiccup started rubbing the back of neck, trying to figure out the best way to answer that question which wouldn’t cause the heavyset Viking to fly off the handle while not earning a reproachful look the shieldmaiden. He was saved when the growing commotion outside grew loud enough that it could not be ignored anymore. However, it was one particular loud scream which had all three teenagers turn their heads towards the entry.

“Get ye hands off me dragon!”

For a moment, no one said a word until Fishlegs timidly piped up. “Was that Gobber?”

“Yeah,” Hiccup answered eyes never leaving the front of the stall even though he couldn’t see anything from where he stood.

“Did he just say his _dragon_?” the blond Viking gulped, pressing his forefingers together and looking around.

“Yeah,” Astrid confirmed turned steel-blue eyes to meet green eyes wrinkled with contemplation and confusion.

“He has a dragon?” Fishlegs whispered in awe and a little bit of fear as well, because Gobber the Belch did have a reputation and it wasn’t all good. The man had lost two of his four appendages and from the rumors, only one had been in a dragon attack.

“Not that I know of,” Hiccup shook his head, breaking himself out of the stupor which had befallen over all of them.

“This, I have to see,” Astrid began pushing her way passed the two teenage boys and all but running out of the forge. Hiccup and Fishlegs were not even a step behind her as the shieldmaiden cleared them all a way out into the uncommonly crowded streets. Stepping out from under the stall’s roof, the auburn haired teenager heard a growl and looked up to see Toothless perch on the roof, staring at the center of the crowd with narrowed eyes.

Wondering what had the Night Fury riled up; Hiccup looked towards the crowd for the answer. A cart laden with goods could be seen through the cluster of Vikings and as people moved out of the way, green eyes caught sight of a large Boulder-class dragon pulling the cart. A first glance, the auburn teenager thought the dragon to be a Gronckle. The second glance had Hiccup questioning the species as it was one he had never seen before, even in _The Book of Dragons_.

“What species of dragon is that?” Fishlegs barely held back his murmurs of excitement. The heavyset Viking was bouncing up and down trying to get a better look at the dragon from a distance, every once in a while mumbling some observation under his breath. Sequels of delight– that shouldn’t have belonged to anyone over the age of ten – emanated from Fishlegs when the crowd cleared a path which allowed an unobstructed view of the new dragon

“No idea,” Hiccup answered watching as one of Viking crowding around the dragon reach out to touch the not-Gronckle. The short man quickly back off when a large, burly man stepped in between him and the dragon, waving around what remained of his left arm that had a large stone hammer attached at the forearm for a makeshift hand.

From this distance, the auburn haired teenager could see the Viking’s long-horned helmet almost being knocked completely off with the stone hammer to reveal bare skin underneath, but it was quickly fixed. Hiccup could just imagine the man’s dirty blond unibrow forming a v-shape as his braided-mustache flying around due to his exaggerated gestures while the blond chastised the man who had dare touch the dragon. Add a crooked nose, big-ears and large jawline up close and in the Viking’s face, it was no wonder the frightened Viking quickly backed away. That was just how Gobber was, overbearing but kindhearted.

In the week since Hiccup had last seen him, the tribe’s blacksmith had seen some wear and tear. The teenager immediately noticed the changes to his mentor, starting with the latest batch of holes in the brown wool shirt that added to the ever growing collection. Oddly enough, the yak fur vest over the top of the shirt was still intact. However, the man’s right wooden leg wasn’t so lucky and was shorter than it should have been while his sole boot was missing the yak fur around the top along with the leather strap around his right arm. Thankfully the strap on his left arm to keep Gobber’s prosthesis in place was still there as well as his burlap pants, the latter of which everyone was very grateful for.

“Whoa. That is a lot of pelts,” Astrid drew Hiccup’s attention to the large pile of furs and leathers threatening to fall off the back of the cart.

One pure white fur – which would fetch a high price for the color alone – threatened to slip off the back into the muddy street. Yet, before the fur could fall, it was pushed back on top of the pile by a wooden crook. Green eyes followed the length of the wood and grew in size upon settling on the figure trailing behind the cart. It was the strange foreigner Toothless had stolen from wrapped tightly in a black fur blanket.

“Off with the lot of ye! Imma gonna need a complete inventory before any of this goes up for sale,” Gobber attempted to chase the crowd off by waving his stone hammer around threatening. There were plenty of grumbles and complaining along with a few offers to get the first pick which sounded pretty enticing even to the chief’s son; despite the hubbub, the crowd slowly dispersed. However, there were three young Vikings who stayed behind.

The first, who was approached the much slimmer foreigner, was a well-built brunet with more muscle than fat. His face held more colorless scars than freckles and add the crooked and missing teeth, it indicated the multitude of fights the green eyed teen got in frequently. The brunet’s grass green shirt and black yak vest were of the best quality but shabby from the constant abusive in addition to brown wool pants tucked into yak boots. Leather arm braces matched the belt around his waist – which was kept secured by a finely crafted belt buckle – and a Viking helmet with the largest curled ram horns attached to the sides bespoke of the teenager’s high status in the tribe.

On either side of the muscular dark haired Viking was a pair of wheat blond haired twins towering over the top of him. To the right was a lanky dark blue-eyed boy with dreadlocks. The blond Viking had on a severely faded green long tunic with a brown sash-like belt tied around his waist underneath an extended dark brown bear fur vest. His greyish-blue pants had seen better days but they were better than the once white, now brown, arm bands wrapped around his forearms. The dark brown furry boots and along with the four horned – two bullhorns and two ox-horns – helmet gave him the traditional Viking appearance.

On the brunet Viking’s other side, stood a girl with a somewhat masculine appearance. Her most notable features were her slim face combined with a wide toothy smile and barely there feminine curves. Wheat colored hair was pulled into twin braids around her face while the rest was multiple braids down the blonde’s back. Like her twin, she wore an extended light brown bear fur vest with a leather belt and brown arm band. However, unlike her brother, the blonde Viking had a dark blue shirt underneath the vest and wore a grey-brown skirt over her brown leather pant to show her feminine side. Warm furry boots and a helmet with four long slender, yet slightly curved, horns sticking out of the side completed her normal attire.

It was the sight of the trio which had Hiccup wanting to slam his face into his hand but refraining, barely. He could already feel the headache coming on when he recognized who had stayed behind. Snotlout Jorgenson and the Thorston twins: Ruffnut and Tuffnut. Combine them with Astrid and Fishlegs and they were his responsibility as the Head of Berk’s Dragon Training Academy. However, whereas Astrid and Fishlegs were the better half of the Academy and Snotlout and the twin were – for lack of a better way of putting it – the troublemakers of the Academy.

The chief’s son could only imagine what degrading and idiotic things Snotlout was saying to the stranger. He expected the slender brunet to backway from the shorter – yet bulkier – and all around larger brunet. The foreigner didn’t. He didn’t just stand there either. When Snotlout tried to take the white fur from the cart, the slight brunet reacted.

With the same grace Hiccup had witnessed a week prior, the foreigner used the hook of the staff to capture the Viking’s wrist and ducked down. Moving underneath the captured arm and coming up behind the shorter boy, the brunet twisted the retrained arm in his staff back with his movements and positioned himself between the cart and the muscular Viking. A jab of the staff into the brawny teen’s back had Snotlout’s arm coming unhooked and sent him crashing into one of the Thorston. Not once, in the whole encounter had the foreigner touched Snotlout with anything but the staff.

“Wow,” Astrid breathed out in awe and Hiccup could only nod in agreement as he stared in disbelief. Above them on the roof, Toothless had gone from crouching down, growling at the newcomer with slights for pupils to sitting up straight, head tilted to the side and wide eyes watching the spectacle before them.

“Ah, Astrid, there you are. This makes things easier. Your uncle wanted me to give you this,” Gobber clappped Hiccup on the shoulder as he leaned over with a tightly bound scroll balanced on his stone hammer in offering to the shieldmaiden. The auburn hair teenager almost jumped out of his skin, not having heard the telltale thump of his mentor’s wooden leg as he approached the group. The blacksmith continued his conversation with Astrid but kept his eyes trained on Fishlegs who was busy eying the new dragon. “I’ll have the tools and other supplies he wants ready in a week or two for you to take back to him. Well, that is if this flying ban I hear of is lifted by then. If not, we’ll figure something out.”

“My Da will appreciate this, thanks for your help, Gobber,” Astrid nodded her head to show her gratitude and took the scroll. “I better gets this to Da before Ma ties him to the bed. Bye Gobber; Hiccup, we’ll finish our earlier conversation later. See you later Fishlegs.”

The shieldmaiden parted ways with the gathered group, but not before giving Hiccup a punch in the arm.

“Bye Astrid,” the two teenage boys parroted, the skinner teen rubbing his arm.

“She’s a keeper, isn’t she? Well, if you are into that thing that is,” Gobber said from behind the two boys, waving at the retreating blonde. “Hiccup, I need you to unload and inventory everything. Have Fishlegs help you since he doesn’t seem busy, are ya Fishlegs?”

“Uh… I um… I-,” the heavyset Viking attempted to refuse but he wasn’t given the choice.

“Great!” Gobber cutoff whatever Fishlegs had to say, slapping the boy on the back causing him to stumble forward. “I’ll see you boys tonight. I need to go get Jackson and Grump settled in. Jackson! Grump! Follow me!”

The brunet – _Jackson_ which Hiccup committed the name to memory – upon hearing his name, looked up from where he was kneeling next to the Boulder-class dragon. With one last scratch behind the dragon’s wings, he stood up and followed Gobber back into the village. The dragon trailed after them, leaving in its wake a cooling semicircle of lava separating a heap of flesh from the cart. It took a moment, but Hiccup finally distinguished the limps and hair belonging to Ruffnut and Snotlout. Tuffnut stood to the side, pointing at the heap, laughing hysterically.

“Who was that?” Fishlegs ask as Toothless jumped down to the ground and circled around the fleshy heap, nudging what the auburn haired teen assumed with Ruffnut’s foot but turned out to be Snotlout’s nose. A shout about stupid dragons had the Night Fury clawing the appendage in retaliation.

“I have no idea, but I’d sure like to find out,” Hiccup said the last part to himself. Shaking his head, he turned towards the laden cart which a few of the braver Vikings had come back to explore and were inching closer for a better look once again. “Come on Fishlegs, let’s get this over with.”

Gobber did eventually return to the blacksmith stall, but it was well into the evening and Fishlegs had long since left to have dinner with his family. Hiccup had stayed behind; not because he wanted to talk to his mentor about the foreigner he brought back with him. No, he just stayed to work on the prototype of the shield he was currently designing. His laboring on the shield had no bearing whatsoever on the mysterious Jackson and if Gobber was itching to talk, Hiccup wouldn’t mind learning more about the dragon he had brought back with him.

It didn’t help Toothless kept pacing around the open layout of the forge as Hiccup worked. The Night Fury had gone a week without their routine flight around the island at sunset and tonight happened to be the night the dragon was letting out his fury about being grounded. The chief’s son had already been smacked in the head on three different occasions by the Toothless’s tail. Finally, Hiccup had to send him outside the stall and now the big baby was giving him the slight treatment, back turned to his trainer as he ignored the teenager.

“Nice to have you in the shop, Hiccup,” Gobber called out, tottering into the shop on a new wooden peg leg. “I didn’t think you’d still be here at this hour. Getting Jackson and Grump settled in was a little more difficult than I had anticipated. I appreciate the dedication and stickin’ around until I returned.”

“No problem,” the auburn haired teen replied. He wanted to latch on to the part about getting Jackson settled in and discreetly inquire about the boy. Yet, Gobber had changed the subject before Hiccup had the chance.

“So, what are we making?” the blacksmith inquired, eying the wooden shield he had been tinkering with.

Even though it wasn’t the topic Hiccup wanted to be having, he was still proud to show off the shield made of woos with an iron hub to his mentor. He had adding a metal rim to the edge and was waiting for the painting of Toothless done in black – save for the prosthetic tailfin which had been painted in red – to dry when Gobber had arrived. A quick swipe of the finger over the paint revealed it to be slightly sticky but no residue was left behind, so it was safe to handle.

“What do you think?” Hiccup enquired as he offered the shield to Gobber.

Unibrow scrunched together to form a v, the blond Viking held the shield at arm’s length to get a better look at his student’s creation. “All this work for a shield?”

“Well, it’s not just a shield,” the green eyed teenager replied, not offended at the lack of gusto. When Hiccup took the shield back and pressed a button on the side, the iron hub sprang out with a grappling line attached. The line wrapped around Gobber and since the blond Viking had a larger mass, the younger Viking was the one dragged into the blacksmith’s personal space when the line retracted.

“Handy,” Gobber commented after a few seconds of awkward silence with him and Hiccup plastered to one another.

“If we can’t ride dragons, we have to defend ourselves somehow,” Hiccup stood by his design, taking the time to carefully untangle the line from around his mentor to keep from having to replace the mechanism and rope again. He had already had to replace the twice and tinkered with the mechanism on five different occasions.

The blacksmith must have heard the dejected tone to his voice because he gave the young Viking a soft look. “You know, Hiccup, your father is just doing what’s best for you. He’s trying to keep you safe.”

“I know, but the problem is the safest place for me is on Toothless,” Hiccup acknowledged, momentarily ceasing his fiddling with the shield to look up at the blacksmith. Another awkward silence descended upon them as the teenager got back to winding the rope back into the hub. After a moment or two, the green eyed Viking switched topics – feeling uncomfortable with the lack of noise – doing his best to be subtle about it, “So Gobber, about this morning-”

“Ah, I already know what you’re going to say,” Gobber interrupted, taking the shield from his apprentice when the young Viking closed the hub, the rope now safely coiled inside, to study it.

“You do?” Hiccup squeaked – wincing at the sound of his voice – and cleared his throat. Idly he rubbed at his elbow, green eyes darting to the side to avoid looking at the blacksmith.

“You want to know about me dragon!” the blond Viking exclaimed with a wide smile on his face. Setting the shield to the side, Gobber slung his arm over Hiccup’s shoulder and pulled him close.

“Ye-ah, that’s it,” the chief’s son nervously laughed, trying not to twitch in the blacksmith’s embrace. Gobber eyed him critically for a moment, before grinning broadly.

“Well, can’t say he’s mine exactly. Jackson,” and Hiccup immediately latched onto the name, “was the one to initially find the dragon, or would that be the other way around? Blah! Doesn’t matter,” Gobber waved off with a wild gesture of his stone hammer. Letting go of his apprentice, the man ran fingers through his blond mustache with a thoughtful look in his blue eyes. “Finn and Jackson had Grump holed up with them during Devastating Winter. They were feeding him fish and meat, he nearly took off me bad leg when I got in range of his nose. Hotburple – while they can survive on fish and meats – have a main diet of metal ore.”

“A Hotburpall, what?” Hiccup questioned trying to keep up with all of what was being said. Despite the teenager’s intentions, his mind was engrossed only with what Gobber was saying related to Jackson.

“A Hotburple, not surprise you haven’t heard of them. They haven’t been seen around Berk since before me father was born. We’d thought we’d kill them all, it was just one less dragon we had to deal with,” Gobber explained, starring at his hand with dull eyes. “Didn’t even transfer Bork the Bold’s notes into the Book of Dragon when it was being made, you should be able to find a whole section on them in Bork’s notes, if you’re taking care of them properly that is.”

“I am,” Hiccup grumbled, not caring about the evil eye he was receiving. The Head of the Dragon Training Academy didn’t blame Gobber for wanting to make sure his ancestor’s legacy was being kept in pristine condition, but it was getting rather old. Albeit, he would have to go through the notes again to find out more about the Hotburple; he didn’t even remember reading anything about the dragon species before.

“That’s good then,” the blacksmith bobbed his head up and down, happy to hear his heirlooms were being taken care of. “Anyways, Hotburple think Gronckle but instead of eating rocks, they mainly eat metal ore-”

“If they mainly eat metal ore, why did he try to eat your wooden leg?” the auburn haired teenager interjected, looking pointedly at the new peg Gobber was wearing.

“He smelled the metal shavings stuck to it of course,” his mentor explained chuckling, tapping his peg leg with his stone hammer. “After eating meats for a sold season, it probably tasted like Yak Butter Parfait after eating Mildew’s cabbage for a year.”

Hiccup made a disgusted face; he so could have gone without that thought. His stomach actually turned at the mention of Mildew’s cabbage. All the food in Berk was tough and tasteless, but the traitor’s cabbage tasted like dirt. Actually, the twins had ate dirt instead of having to eat the cabbage which was the day he swore off eating the leafy greens even if it was the last food on Berk. When the twins didn’t want to eat the cabbage, then he knew it was bad because they ate anything.

“Can’t really blame Finn, what with him and dragons, I’m surprised he’d even took Grump in,” Gobber said fondly, shaking his head. “So anyways, there I was, with a dragon chewing on me leg – licking off all the metal bits and bobs stuck to it over the years from working in the shop – and towering over me was Fearless Finn Hofferson making sure I was okay. It was perfect.”

“The dragon?” Hiccup asked concerned given the dreamy tone the blacksmith had taken on near the end.

“Um…yeah,” the Viking quickly agreed, blue eyes darting to the sides. “Anyhow, Finn pushed Grump back and made sure I was alright. Not that knocking me down was going to cause me any harm. So, Finn and me made a trade. I’d get do some metal work for him and he’d give me–“

“The dragon,” Hiccup finished for Gobber, getting slightly desperate to hear more about the mysterious boy than the dragon.

“What? Naw, he’d give me some of the best preserved meats on this side of Berk and first pick at anything else I might want,” Gobber answered with a shake of his head.

“How’d you get the dragon then?” the young Viking asked not having to feign real interest in the story. If Gobber hadn’t traded for the dragon, how exactly did he get said dragon? Hiccup hoped that his mentor hadn’t stolen the dragon.

Gobber gave his apprentice a pointed look, almost like he had heard the teenager’s inner thoughts. “The dragon came on his own; well, to be precise, he’d followed Jackson and after finding out I worked at the smithy, he wanted to stay with me.”

It was just the opening Hiccup was waiting for. “Uh, Gobber, who is Jackson?”

The blacksmith gave a large sigh, facial features downturned. “Terrible story there, poor lad, he was attacked by a pride of Changewings and carried to Berk before Grump saved him. No family to speak of, Finn thought it would be best he came to the village to bring him out of his shell as well as to have Gothi look him over.

“I offered to house the lad, but in return he’s gotta earn his keep,” Gobber waved his stone hammer around the forge, “I hope you won’t mind having some help around here. When ye’re here that is. I could use the extra hands, what with you being gone halva the time doing Academy stuff.”

Hiccup gulp, he wouldn’t mind have Jackson around the smithy; the real problem would be if _Jackson_ minded having _Hiccup_ around.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Gobber slapped his apprentice on the back. “Imagine you’ll be here quite a while. Too bad, really. Have you seen that moon? Can’t imagine a more beautiful night for a flight.”

The rumbles from Toothless had Hiccup slamming his head into his hand before glaring at the retreating back of his mentor. Did he really have to go and say _that_? Now Toothless would be incorrigible.

Turning his head over to where the Night Fury was whining and looking up at the moon with a longing expression, the teenager groaned. “I know what you’re thinking, and you might as well forget it.”

The dejected look from the dragon had Hiccup’s resolve crumbling and when Toothless hunkered down more, ear-plates flattening against his head, the Viking’s resolve shattered.


	8. Iron Determination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I feel bad that I keep being late with updating (though you guys never disappoint with the reviews), so this week I thought I'd update early! (Also, this chapter was pretty much written completely with only very little to be edited.)
> 
> To ace of spades, I have no idea what you mean by keeping this historically correct since this is a RotG/HTTYD crossover. If you mean being correct to the Viking era, I'm trying to keep close to it as the HTTYD universe allows me. Though, I do take some liberties, but thank you for noticing! Also, thank you Jayelyyn for pointing out the error. I fixed it the first chance I got.

Hiccup never made it back to the smithy for a few days. He had been too busy with the Dragon Flight Club – a club he had formed behind his father’s back to patrol the skies during night which turned out to be beneficial in the end – and taking care of Alvin and his Outcasts attacking Berk with a pride of Changewings. When the blacksmith’s apprentice did turn up at the forge, Jackson was nowhere to be seen and by inquiring about the foreigner, Gobber had informed him the brunet was working only half the day. The blond Viking had encouraged Jackson to use his free time to familiarize himself with the village and the other tribe members. Hopefully, he would make some friends along the way.

It was actually pretty odd, since every time Hiccup made an effort and – even when he wasn’t making an effort – to get to the smithy in order to talk to Jackson, the foreigner was already gone. It didn’t matter if it was morning or afternoon, Hiccup always would either just miss Jackson or the boy would be come in after he had left. He had thought it might be on purpose, but half the time it was Gobber who had sent Jackson out to get one thing or another or the brunet was delivering an order.

However, today was different. Today was the official beginning of spring and the smithy along with the majority of Berk was closed to attend the celebration. Hiccup had opted to work on some of his own projects in the forge since no one else would be around to bother him. Astrid had halfheartedly offered to stay behind with him, but he had encouraged her to attend the celebrations. Someone needed to keep Snotlout in line.

Hiccup had thought Toothless and he would be the only ones – beside the unlucky Vikings on sentry duty – in the village and not out enjoying the festivities. He had been mistaken. A group of kids were surrounding one of the supporting columns on the smithy. Some of them were standing, peaking over other kids’ shoulders while others were seated on the ground.

The teenager recognized Gustav Larson as one of the children towards the back and briefly wondered why he wasn’t at the celebration. The boy worshiped Snotlout – and Hiccup thanked Odin every day that Snotlout didn’t realize the full extent of the kid’s hero-worship or his self-proclaimed rival would have become even more insufferable – to the point he dressed just like him. It didn’t help that Gustav had brown hair and blue eyes like his idol which made the resemblance a little unsettling.

At first, the chief’s son had assumed the children were there to catch a glimpse of the new easy going dragon. As of yet – even with the numerous changes made over the year – only the few members of the Dragon Training Academy and the Chief of Berk had dragons of their own. So it was a novelty to the little ones to get up close to see a dragon. Grump was their newest fixation.

Hiccup was going to call out to the little kiddies when Toothless suddenly stopped by his side and all his ear-plates and nubs perked up. His head tilted to the side as he intently sniffed the air. Almost immediately, the nubs and ear-plates went back, plastering themselves against his head and Toothless’s eyes became mere slights. A hair-raising growl wrenched itself from deep in the dragon’s throat as he gave a dirty look at the group of kids, none of whom had seemingly heard the growl.

Almost as if feeling his growing trepidation, the children grew silent.

“-and BAM!” a silvery voice rose unexpected from within the mass of kids, causing some of the children to jump back before leaning back in. “Thor struck down Thrym. To this day, Loki and Thor believe it was them alone who entered the Jötunheim kingdom to retrieve Mjölnir.”

Hiccup recognized the voice belonging to the mysterious Jackson and his heart set racing by Toothless’s hostility slowed to a calmer pace. It was no wonder the dragon was displaying such animosity. The Night Fury’s initial interaction with the brunet had left off on a sour note. His rider had a suspicion Toothless’s reaction was due to Jackson’s treatment of him more than anything else, yet it was Toothless who had been in the wrong. However, by raising his voice and assaulting Hiccup’s hand that was what had caused the Night Fury to intensely dislike the brunet.

Sneaking closer with a weary Toothless by his side, the teenager found Jackson leaning against the support column the children were encircling. He was the center of the children’s attention. His black cloak usually draped around his shoulders was currently covering the legs of the children on both side of him and the dark haired little girl sitting on his lap. It also allowed him to finally realize the horrible cloak was in fact not a cloak but an unaltered pelt, claws and all.

“Did Thor ever learn Jokul Frosti had help him?” one of the children asked as others chimed in their agreement or own questions.

Jackson chuckled, reaching over and ruffling the boy’s hair who had asked the question. “No, no he didn’t and neither did Loki.”

“But why didn’t Jokul Frosti say anything to either of them?” someone called out from the back, Hiccup recognizing the high-pitched voice of Gustav, “The Thunderer would have been indebted to him then. Jokul Frosti could have risen in power than.”

Amber eyes skimmed over the auburn hair teenager to land on Gustav. When he found the younger brunet, Jackson gave him a wide smile. “Where would the fun in that be? Jokul Frosti may be the personification of frosty winter weather, but above that he loves having fun and causing a little bit of mischief on the side. By aiding Thor and Loki while thwarting Thrym, he caused the ultimate havoc without resulting to bloodshed and he couldn’t stop laughing when Thor and Loki dressed up as women. If either of the two knew, they would feel distraught which is the opposite of fun and Jokul Frosti would never want that. He doesn’t like to destruction unless he has been provoked.”

“What provokes him?” a dirty blonde hair preteenager probed with a gleam in her eyes. Hiccup wasn’t sure he liked look, it reminded him too much of Snotlout when he was told he couldn’t – or shouldn’t – do something and then went and did it anyways.

“What does he do those who provoke him?” the little boy to the foreigner’s right whimpered, eyes wide as he pulled the black bearskin up to his chin.

Jackson’s forehead crinkled, eyes flashing, as he bit the side of his bottom lip. The children were too preoccupied with what the brunet was going to say for them to notice their storyteller’s changing mood, bar Hiccup. It would have been hard for the kids to notice seeing how a smile spread across the foreigner’s face so fast that the chief’s son even doubted what he saw with the swiftness his emotions changed.

“Jokul Frosti covers those who provoke him in snow,” the brunet said slowly, each word measured and weighed. “As to how to provoke Jokul Frosti, now that is a hard thing to do. He is care-free and very friendly, but if you hurt those he cares about and considers under his protection? Only then will you have a reason to fear him.”

“Who does he consider under his protection?” the child in Jackson’s lap asked, light green eyes looking up and back at the foreigner.

“Now that is something you’ll have to find him and ask him yourself,” Jackson answered, ruffling the little girl’s shoulder length brown hair producing a small bout of giggles.

“I have a question,” another child in the back raised his hand, waving it around to gain the brunet’s attention. Jackson made a go on motion. “If Jokul Frosti wasn’t around to help Thor, he wouldn’t have been able to reclaim Mjölnir. Shouldn’t Jokul Frosti have been rewarded for his actions?”

“No, Jokul Frosti just leveled the playing field because without Thrym’s guards and traps, he wouldn’t have needed to intervene. Then both Thor and Loki would have been able to pass without Jouk Frosti’s help. Besides, Odin did reward him in a way,” the brunet reached out with his staff and bopping the child lightly on the head initiating a round of snickers.

“How was that?” the same child asked swatting at the staff which was always just out of reach.

Jackson grinned, finally pulling the crook back to lean against his shoulder. “Remember Kringle? He directed Jokul Frosti to a place where he could have some fun?”

“Yeah,” coursed the children together as one.

“Well, who do you think Kringle was?” the brunet’s grinned tuned in to a full blown smile.

“Who?” the greened eyed, dark haired girl asked eagerly followed by the rest of the children.

“Why who else but Odin!” Jackson exclaimed making a wide gesture causing his attentive listeners to suck in a breath of awe. “You see, Jokul Frosti was rewarded in a way, Odin personally directed him towards the Thunderer and Trickster with the hope that Jokul Frosti would help them. What more could a person want than to be recognized by Odin?”

Chatter spread out amongst the children as they spoke with one another before a slow chant started to build up. “Tell us another! Tell us another!”

“I want to hear about the Wyldfae!” the blonde girl next to Hiccup proclaimed. Although, the auburn hair teenager doubt Jackson could hear her over all the noise.

“No, tell us the one about the Questing Beast and how King Arthur killed it,” Gustav yelled bouncing up and down and accidently stepped on the foot of the girl next to him.

“King Arthur didn’t slay the Questing Beast you dork, the Warlock Merlin did and then went on to save the king’s life,” a blonde girl snarled, punching Gustav for his infraction.

“I want to hear another story about Jokul Frosti,” said the child in Jackson’s lap. “He nips at your nose when it is cold to say hello and again as a small prank, right?”

Smiling at the girl, the brunet patted the green eyed child on her head. “Right, but that is a story for another time. I heard there was supposed to be a feast tonight and it’s time to get ready for it, right?” There were protests and groans from the children which Jackson soon put to a rest with a moderate scolding. “None of that now; traditions are important and it is essential we follow them or they could be lost forever and we don’t want that, do we? Nope, we don’t. Besides, it’s a feast, think of all the fun we can have there.”

Still there were some grumbles, but the children looked a little less reluctant to leave.

Amber eyes rolled and he used his staff to bop a few random kids on the head. A few of them tried to grab the crook before it could tap them but none of them were quick enough. Those who tried to shield their heads with their arms ended up with a tap on the nose. Giggles and shouts soon peppered the air as the children began to runaway to avoid being poked and prodded.

“Tomorrow,” Jackson called out above the excited yelps and shrieks of joy, “I’ll tell you the story of how the Warlock Merlin uncovered an assassination attempt on his King during a feast. Maybe, if you’re lucky, you can do the same tonight and make sure the chief is well protected.”

That sent the kids scrabbling, shouts of how they were going to be the one to keep Stoick the Vast safe drifted off as the children hurried home. However, the messy blond haired boy sitting to the burnet’s side, stayed behind. His little hands fumbled around as he pulled the fur pelt around Jackson’s shoulders and clumsily worked to secure it. He then stood up and dusted the dirt off Jackson’s shoulders. The boy leaned back with a thoughtful looking on his face and a critical look in his blue eyes. With one last adjustment to the bearskin now firmly affixed on the brunet’s shoulders, a smile spread across the small blond Viking’s face.

“There, all done. Now you’re ready for the festival too,” the boy applauded his own efforts despite how the makeshift cloak was obviously lopsided and not the least bit presentable.

“Thank you, Snuffnut,” Jackson somehow kept a straight face despite holding back laughter as he brushed off the snow still stuck on the bearskin. “Now, off you go to get ready. Your Ma is probably waiting for you.”

“Okay, bye-bye Jackson,” Snuffnut bid his farewell and ran off into the village.

Shaking his head, the foreigner planted his staff in the ground and hauled himself up. He took off the cloak and shook off the ice which had accumulated on it before wrapping it around his shoulders. Never once, did Jackson notice the auburn haired teenager as he made his way in the opposite direction of the dragon and his rider. For some reason, Hiccup had the impression he had just witnessed something special.

That night, Hiccup and Toothless went to the feast even though he hadn’t planned on going earlier. It was all worth it to see his father look around bewildered as the children of the tribe were always under foot. They would get in between him and other Vikings, citing they might be a potential threat, or stealing his food to test it for poison. It was hilarious.

And if Hiccup’s eyes keep finding their way to Jackson – who was also surrounded by the children who wanted to protect him as well; which, Hiccup could understand, because the brunet looked even frailer than him, which was definitely saying something – it was out of curiosity, nothing else.

* * *

 

“This cannot get any worse,” Astrid grumbled from underneath Snotlout. Both of whom were stuck in one of the many Netter Traps left over from the days when the Hairy Hooligan Tribe were killing dragons instead of training them. Now the traps were a hazard to unsuspecting Vikings as demonstrated by Astrid and Snotlout, who were hanging a good hundred feet up in the air. The shieldmaiden blamed it all on the brunet squishing her.

“Don’t worry babe, I’ve got this all covered. _Hookfang!_ Fire it up!” Snotlout shout at the enormous bright reddish-orange dragon with darker spots scattered around his wings curled up to the side.

The dragon lifted his long snake neck, revealing an elongated maw with a nose horn and an underbite which had a row of sharp fangs protruding out of his mouth. Two pairs of large shiny grayish-black horns grew from the back of his head and curved slightly outwards on the edge as a trail of sharp spines went from the dragon’s neck all the way down his spine to the tip of his snake tail. Yellowish orange eyes that had slits for pupils blinked blurrily at the trapped Vikings before pushing himself up on double clawed wings to expose a tan underbelly. The dragon had no forelegs, but shuffled forward in a ground-based locomotion on his hind legs and the double clawed wings.

A flame was already forming in the Monstrous Nightmare’s mouth when Tuffnut kicked the dragon’s tail, putting a stop to the fire. Hookfang’s long neck jerked around towards the boy, growling dangerously. For once, the blond Viking sensed danger and stepped behind his sister for cover. Ruffnut would have none of that and switched places with him, pushing the sacrificial Viking forward.

“For the love of Thor, why’d you stop him?” Astrid grumbled, pushing Snotlout’s boot out of her face. A shove of her elbow in to the boy’s stomach keep the boot from coming back and forced the air out of the brunet’s lungs.

“Because he’d destroy Pixie Hollow’s Home Tree; duh,” Ruffnut pointed out, rolling her blue eyes and broke into cackles of laughter when Hookfang lite her brother’s shoulder on fire.

“Pixie what now?” Snotlout wheezed out, trying to regain the oxygen he desperately needed and completely unconcerned with the Monstrous Nightmare scuttling after Tuffnut while the blond desperately tried to put the flames out.

“Pixie Hollow, you know where all the pixies live,” Tuffnut shout as he put the fire out on his shoulder but hadn’t quite lost Hookfang.

“Not pixies you moron, Wyldfae,” Ruffnut corrected while sticking her foot out and tripped her twin. The blond fell flat on his face, which had the Monstrous Nightmare creasing his pursuit of the Viking in favor of staring at the motionless body groaning in pain on the ground.

“Oh yeah, you’re right,” Tuffnut exclaimed pushing himself up revealing a face full of mud and displaying to signs of pain despite his moans only moments previous. Sitting up, he crossed his arms over his chest and nodded his head. “We can’t burn down Wyldfae Hollow.”

“What are you two nincompoops yammering on about now?” the trapped brunet yelled, shifting and ended up with one of his legs going through the netting.

“Does it matter? Just get us down!” Astrid growled out finally being able to wriggle her way out from underneath Snotlout. The result was the Viking’s other leg going through the net accompanied by pained whimper.

“Don’t worry, we sent Barf and Belch to get Hiccup and Fishlegs,” Ruffnut yelled through cupped her hands to appease the two.

“Great, it just got worse,” the shieldmaiden groaned and if she could have, she would have hidden her face in her hands. No sooner had the words left her lips than the sound of flapping wings pierced the air.

The twins turn to see three low flying dragons through the leafless tree limbs headed their way. At the head of the pack were two short heads with matching horned noses and large fangs peeking out from around their underbites. Both heads had yellow reptile eyes and thin grey horns on top of their heads. Long serpentine necks with red spikes snaked down to join at one slim green body which then split again into two tails with finlike structure at the ends. Red spots littered the single dragon’s topside while its underside was a light yellow color. Unlike the long necks and tails, the two-headed dragon had four short legs and an unimpressive wingspan.

Flying to the left of the Hideous Zippleback the twins had named Barf and Belch was the bulky brown rocklike dragon with small wings beating ridiculously fast to keep airborne. Like Grump, the dragon’s had a large head but unlike the other Boulder-class dragon, his nose was blunt and yellow eyes were not to the side of his face. Two ear-wings perched on top of the rock dragon’s head which was the only way to keep from mistaking the head with the clubbed tail.  

Across from Meatlug the Gronckle was Toothless who landed next to the tall birdlike teal dragon with a large curved horn for a nose and an overbite. Upon the three new arrivals’ landing, the Deadly Nadder got to her two feet using her winged forelimbs to give her a little extra help. Shaking her head, yellow spikes surrounding the dragon’s skull flared out along with the spines covering her tail before all the spines and spikes returned to laying flat.

Stormfly turned her small yet keen yellow eyes and chirped in greetings to the rest of her pack. Hookfang, on the other hand, just grunted and lay down to go back to his nap while ignoring everyone. The Head of the Dragon Academy shook his head – the dragons’ personalities seemed to reflect their riders’ personalities – and dismounted, while Fishlegs had a little trouble getting off of Meatlug. His trouble came from the long sword strapped to the heavyset Viking’s side which wasn’t normally there.

Turning around, the heavyset Viking wavered at the two faces right in his face.

“Wow, look at that sword,” Ruffnut breathed out and reached out to touch the shiny weapon. She was shoved out of the way by her brother before the blonde could lay one finger on the sword.

Crouching down to inspect the sword, Tuffnut idly scratched some of the drying mud off his face. “Hey, isn’t this the one Gobber made? He wouldn’t’ allow me to touch it! How’d you get it?”

“Did you have to kill him for it?” the blonde exuberantly asked, ramming her shoulder into Tuffnut’s side.

“No! I did _not_ kill Gobber,” Fishlegs viciously shook his head in denial before pulling the weapon out and proudly showing off his new sword. “And it is the very first sword made from Gronckle Iron. Gobber gave it to me as a gift.”

“Let me have it,” Ruffnut demanded, making a lunge for it only for her brother to jostle her out of the way.

“No, I saw it first,” her twin shouted readying himself to fight for the sword. Yet they were stopped before a brawl could break out as Hiccup walked in between the two and held both hands up to keep the two twins from attacking one another.

“Guys, guys focus,” the chief’s son tried to calm both of them down. Once he was sure they weren’t going to attack each other or Fishlegs, only then Hiccup dropped his arms and looked to the two for answers. “Want to tell me why’d you have Barf and Belch bring us here?”

“Oh, because Astrid and Snotlout are kissing in the tree,” Tuffnut grumbled as he used the end of his vest to wipe the rest of the mud off his face while using his free hand to point up into the trees.

“We are not!” Astrid scandalized shout drew the new arrivals attention upwards where they caught sight of the missing Academy members dangling high up in the tree. “This idiot set off the trap and got us both stuck up here. Those two idiots won’t get us down.”

“Like I said, we can’t damage Wyldfae Hollow!” Tuffnut protested, arms defensively crossed over his chest.

“Pixie Hollow,” Ruffnut amended, mirroring her brother’s stance.

“What?” the blond Viking shouted, his head snapping towards his sister and made wild hand gestures. “I thought we just went over this? Is it Pixie Hollow for the Pixies or is it Wyldfae Hollow for the Wyldfae?”

“Neither, it is Pixie Hollow for the Wyldfae. Mostly the Dewdrop Faeries and the Wee Folk to be precise,” Jackson clarified, making his way under a fallen branch as he came from the opposite direction of the village.

“That makes complete sense,” Tuffnut nodded. He then turned his head towards and not so subtly stage whispers to the other members of the Academy. “It really doesn’t.”

“But this isn’t Pixie Hollow’s Home Tree,” Jackson patted the tree truck, making it unclear if he had overheard the blond’s comment or not. “Although, the hamadryad sure appreciates you preventing the dragons from burning her.”

“What are you blabbering on about? Just _get us down_!” Snotlout bellowed throwing a tantrum and getting a boot in his face for the trouble.

“Hang on a second,” the brunet dismissed the trapped Viking, busy taking off his bearskin blanket and folding it neatly. He placed the pelt under the tree before walking away, adjusting the blue – which Hiccup could have sworn were white at the festival – arm warmers on both hand as he went.

“And what is a hiccup like you going to do about it?” Snotlout scoffed.

Jackson, pulling his staff out from under his arm, did an about face and eyed the distance between him and the tree. Then he took off at a dead run towards the tree parallel to the one the two teenagers were stuck in and then _up_ the tree. When he started to lose momentum, the brunet pushed off and his right foot pressed up against the tree the dangling duo was trapped in before pushing off again. He continued to go up the tree that way until he was five feet away from the nearest low hanging branch.

Then with one last push, the brunet did a backflip over the branch. His staff hooking around the branch and catching him, the momentum and the staff had Jackson swinging back underneath the branch and up. The crook was dislodged from the branch and the slip of a boy landed on the thick tree branch in a crouch.

Amber eyes looked up, calculating the distance and weighing his options before Jackson launched himself on and upwards once more. From there, it was only a combination of jumps and swinging that had the brunet seated on the high rise branch the Netter Trap was strung from. Jackson eyed the trap, looking for a way to release it. Shrugging his shoulders, the brunet reached into his boot and pulled out a dagger.

“Heads up!” Jackson called out and promptly cut the rope.

Stormfly let out a chirp and took flight. The Deadly Nadder easily caught Astrid in her talons and set the shieldmaiden down on the ground where Hiccup immediately went to Astrid’s side to make sure she was okay. He was appeased with a smile from the blonde teenager which sent blood rushing to his cheeks. Snotlout on the other hand, tumbled head first into one of the few snowdrifts which hadn’t melted. His cursing was muffled by the snow which liquefied thanks to Hookfang’s small puff of fire.  

“Thanks Jackson!” Ruffnut called out through her cupped hands.

“Yeah, thanks,” Tuffnut yelled up at the boy, waving his hand high above his head. The brunet sat down on the thick branch and waved back.

“No problem,” Jackson nodded as he swung his feet back and forth. The winds wafted through, ruffling his messy hair as well as sending two green and yellow flowers drifting down from the tree. Drifting down and the flowers landing on the twins’ helmets. Where they came from was a mystery since new growth had barely begun, yet there they were. Jackson laughed joyously as the two picked the flowers off their helmets and studied them with wide blue eyes. “The hamadryad says thank you too.”

“What are you talking about, it’s only a stupid tree,” Snotlout growled, wringing the water out of his vest. No sooner had the words left his mouth than a branch fell on top of his head. Whirling around, he looked for the culprit before looking up and spotting Jackson trying desperately to stifle his laughter and pointed at the brunet. “Hey! Who threw that? It was you, wasn’t it?!”

“Uh, Snotlout,” Fishlegs hesitantly said, raising a finger, “he hasn’t thrown anything. The branch just fell.”

“You insulted the hamadryad. She was getting payback,” Ruffnut pointed out with only half her attention on the happenings or else she would have been rolling on the ground laughing at the burly Viking’s misfortune. The other half was focused on studying the flower currently held delicately in her hands.

“Yeah, payback,” Tuffnut agreed only because it was his sister. He too was preoccupied with the flower, holding it up the sky and cautiously sniffing it. Blue eyes widened before taking a much deeper breath with his nose pressed up against the flower and let out a content sigh.

“Oh for the love of Odin! Do you really believe all this?” Snotlout snarled, erratically waving his hands around.

“Well,” Astrid shrugged her shoulders and crossed her arms. She couldn’t say she did believe in whatever the twins and the foreigner was sprouting off. Then again, it was annoying Snotlout, which only left her with one choice. “The branch did drop right on your head.”

“You guys believe me don’t you? That this kid is just making things up,” Snotlout rounded on Fishlegs and Hiccup. He was promptly pelted with a snowball. “Hey!”

“Now that was me,” Jackson confirmed; staff under his arm as he packed more snow into another ball.

“Why _you_! You want to play that way, huh, fine then. I just hold on to this than,” Snotlout snarled, snatching up the black pelt from the base of the tree and wrapped it around his shoulders. However, Jackson didn’t seem to be paying him attention. His head was turned to the side and the snowball was threatening to fall from his limp fingers. “Why don’t you get down here and try that again? Yeah, I thought-“

“Shut up,” Jackson snapped, his tone no longer playful but harsh. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Fishlegs tentatively asked looking around nervously, waiting for someone to jump out at him.

Toothless perked up, sitting up straight while his ear-plates twisted every which way before finally settling in on one direction. The other dragons were swift to followed the Night Fury’s example, all sitting up straight and alert. A harsh gust of wind rushed through the trees, blowing just right which allowed the dragons’ riders to hear what they and Jackson had already picked up: the shouts and distressed screams.

“Let’s go,” Hiccup commanded moving to Toothless’s side. Jackson was controlling his fall down the tree even before the auburn hair teenager began speaking, using gravity to hasten his trip down while his staff moderate his speed so he didn’t kill himself. The brunet had touched the ground as the last Viking mounted their dragon. Leaning down, the chief’s son patted the Night Fury’s head. “Lead the way, Bud.”

Toothless roared and launched himself into the air, heading in the direction Jackson had already took off towards, easily overtaking him. The others followed Toothless’s lead and they soon arrived at the top of the rocky cliffs which connected with one of the numerous glacier. It was the same glacier the members of the Academy had followed Hamish the Second’s clues to last year and had inadvertently caused a large chunk of the glacier to break off, only to crash into the ocean below. However, since then, the newly flattened surface had become a place the children could ice skate on and the adults took turns in watching the children to prevent any accidents from happening.

Today, there were two adults watching the children. A tall Viking with a long blond beard, wearing a brown deerskin vest and grey scalemail kilt armor covering affixed to a belt over the top of a long faded green tinted tunic. His missing right hand had been replaced by a hook and bucket on his head identified the blond as Bucket, a dimwitted Viking with a soft heart.

Behind Bucket, was his ever present friend Mulch; a short, fat man wearing a green shirt with his upper chest covered in dull scalemail over the top and striped red and tan pants. The short man’s golden brown beard covered most of his face save for his eyes and large noise. He too had a missing his right arm with a hook in its place, but he wore a helmet with four horns – two ox-horns and two nubs of sheep horns – instead of a bucket.

What worried Hiccup though was the large gaping hole in the middle of the glacier and the spider webbing cracks spreading outward from it. Multiple children were still on the ice, either wobbling on their skate or were kneeling on their hands and knees on the ice, not daring to stand back up. Some of the screams came from the children on solid rock standing behind Bucket and Mulch calling for their friends and siblings while the other cries came from the terrified children endangered by the collapsing glacier.

Hiccup briefly wondered why the two adults weren’t helping, but it soon became apparent when one of the older children tried to step on the glacier. The ice cracked under the boy’s foot before caving in underneath the pressure. It was only thanks to Bucket’s quick reflexes, grabbing the child’s clothing and yanking him back that the kid didn’t fall into the newly formed hole.

“Guys,” Hiccup commanded gaining all the riders’ attention. “Rescue mission. Snotlout, fly back to the village and tell them what is going on, get them ready to treat some injures.”

“Hookfang, you heard the man. Fire it up,” Snotlout bellowed, turning the Monstrous Nightmare back towards the village and taking off.

“Astrid, Fishlegs; rescue the kids on the ice, but don’t land. It’s too dangerous,” the Head of the Academy directed the two more skilled fliers.

“On it,” was Astrid’s brisk reply before heading for the girl closest to the large gaping hole.

“Roger,” Fishlegs nodded and directed Meatlug towards the edge of the glacier where the more daring of Viking children skated.

“Ruffnut, Tuffnut, help Bucket and Mulch keep the other children on the rocks back and away from the ice,” Hiccup pointed towards the kids throwing themselves against the older Vikings’ arms in a desperate attempt to help. Yet they were only making things worse, adding more weight to the cracking ice.

“We’re on it,” the twins spoke as one, already turning Barf and Belch around to head over to the glacier’s edge. The Hideous Zippleback quickly took position hovering in the air over the ice where Barf or Belch could easily pick up the young Vikings who were able to slip passed Bucket and Mulch by the back of their clothing and depositing them on dry land.

Turning Toothless to the ice, Hiccup went to help Astrid and Fishlegs collect the kids. Getting the first kid to shore turned out to be some trouble since the little boy didn’t have much upper body strength to pull himself onto the Night Fury’s back. Hiccup was little help in the department, not being able to turn around in fear of detaching his foot from the mechanism for Toothless’s prosthetic – they would all have been in trouble then – and his own lack of upper body strength was abysmal at best.

Still, he managed to help the child to safety and two more before the inevitable happened. The ice which had been silent up until that point gave an ominous groan. The few children on the ice gave a frighten scream as their counterparts on shore began hollering and crying for the Academy members to do something, to move faster.

“Hurry it up you guys,” Astrid warned as she flew over towards a brunet.

Hiccup agreed with her and stepped it up. Dropping off the last two siblings he had collect, the auburn hair teenager scanned the ice for anyone else. Fishlegs was picking up two little girls near the edge of the glacier and Astrid helping a small boy onto Stormfly’s back. Yet that was when his eyes caught sight of Jackson kneeling on the ice next to the lone girl still on the glacier.

He almost yelled at the brunet for the sheer stupidity of running on the ice when it was clear they were evacuating it, but he held his tongue when he saw Jackson working on pulling the dark haired child’s foot out from where it had gone through the ice. Flying closer, Hiccup saw the blood on the brunet’s fingers and the child’s ankle first and then heard the distinct silvery tone of Jackson’s voice as he tried to keep the girl calm.

“You’re being very brave, just keep it up and we’ll be off the ice in a jiffy,” Jackson coaxed, finally breaking the ice further trying to safely remove the child’s foot without doing any further damage.

“Jackson, I’m scared,” the girl hiccupped breaking up her sobs.

The brunet stiffened and slowly he looked up into the tearful light green eyes. “I… I know, I know, but you're gonna be alright. You're not gonna fall in.”

“Promise?” the girl questioned softly. It was then Hiccup recognized the child as the one who had sat in Jackson’s lap when he had been telling stories.

“Would I trick to you?” Jackson gave a small heartening grin, only for the child to let loose a pitiful sob. “Hey now. I promise, I promise you're gonna be… you're gonna be fine. Ya hafta to believe in me.”

“I do,” the dark hair child sniffled, and much to the auburn haired teenager’s surprise, the brunet managed to pull the girl’s foot free.

“There, now let’s get off of the ice,” the foreigner said with such relief in his voice it was hard to miss.

“Best hurry,” Hiccup called out, causing Jackson and the girl to look up at him. Nudging Toothless, the auburn haired teenage had the dragon lowering so he hovered just above the ice. “Hand her here and then I’ll help you up.”

Nodding his head, Jackson picked up the child and his crook before hosted the kid up, holding her out towards Hiccup’s waiting arms. The Head of the Academy seized the kid’s arms, bumping into the staff that was held up as well. He was glad the piece of wood was there though since the girl almost fell and used the crook as a crutch to steady herself during the transfer. Once Hiccup was sure he had a tight hold on the dark-hair green-eyed child in his arms, he turned to Jackson to offer him a hand up, yet he could only watch in horror as the ice caved in under the brunet’s feet.

Amber eyes widen before Hiccup could do anything, Jackson fell into a dark abyss below the icy surface. Toothless reared back and for a split second, the chief’s son thought he saw somethings rush out of the hole. However, he was too preoccupied with staying on the thrashing dragon and keep ahold of the child to pay too much attention.

Toothless jerked downwards, as if something was pulling him and the screams of the child filled his ears when they became weightless for a split second. Talons dug deep into his shoulders, but didn’t puncture the fur of his vest. Hiccup knew they belong to Stormfly as she lifted him and the girl in his arms up to safety. However, two pair of green eyes were too busy watching in despair as Toothless followed Jackson down into the abyss. A moment late, the ice collapsed in on itself and there was no way to get either back.

“ _TOOTHLESS!_ ”


	9. A Galleon Lies Below

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, so there is a good reason why this is late. The first being that me and Pepper Potts from Iron Man share something in common, we're allergic to strawberries and cross-contamination sucks. The second being is I hit the wrong button and saved, but didn't post on Thursday. I was just starting to wonder why no one was reviewing and thought the chapter wasn't any good when I noticed the mistake. Hence, the really late chapter. Yeah, that's my life. I'm thinking I should just update on Fridays from now on instead.

Jack had a horrible sense of déjà vu as he ran onto the cracking ice. However, that was nothing in comparison with the falling through said cracking ice. He had instinctually taken a deep breath and held it, expecting to feel freezing cold water enveloping him at any minute. It was when something collided with his ribs that the teen gasp out, releasing his breath. From there, he was thrown every which way as the ice collapsed in around him.

He didn’t know when he hit the ground, but Jack knew when the cave-in had stopped since the world around him stopped spinning and the ringing in his ears was replaced with silence. It felt like an eternity, but once he was absolutely sure nothing else was going to fall, the ex-spirit took an account of his body. Other than a few bumps and bruises, he was relatively unharmed, which meant he hadn’t fallen as far as he first assumed. Even better, his left hand was still tightly clutching his staff; so with his right hand, he wriggled it down between his body and the ice and pushed up.

The ice underneath his hands didn’t budge, but the comparatively thin slabs on his back began to move as Jack pushed himself up and the ice at his back gave away. He took a moment to reorient himself, the district lack of light making it near impossible and put him on edge. The Guardian of Fun didn’t do so well in the dark since Pitch kept him captive on Easter a few years ago. He tried to keep his breathing even and calmed, but it kept speeding up and it had nothing to do with how terrified he was of the dark.

No, what had Jack frightened happened during the fall. Something had brushed up against him as it passed him on its way up, something very much alive and very much malevolent. Whatever the creature was, it felt a lot like Pitch did and that scarred the ex-spirit. He didn’t have his frosty abilities nor did he have the other Guardians to back him up. His only consolation was the creature hadn’t made it out of the glacier which wasn’t much of a consolation since it was still in here with him.

The Guardian could still feel the malevolent entity but he didn’t know where the thing was located which had his heartrate spiking. Getting his feet under him yet staying in a crouched position close to the ground, Jack switched his staff to his right hand and reached back into his traveling pouch. Rummaging around in the small space, he finally felt the soft cotton cloths he was searching for. Pulling it out, he used his thumb to unravel the ragged folded cloth and let the gentle rays of light emanate from within shine freely.

Folded sunshine.

It was one of the many memories Jack recalled about his life as Jackson Overland, a boy growing up in the first settlement of Burgess. Subsequent to becoming human once again, a few memories had spilled over. However, after the reemergence of the memory brought about by the auburn haired boy, it was like a dam had been broken and more and more of his lost memories returned. It was strange; as an immortal, he had a few memories reemerged over the years since he had touched his tooth box and they were sporadic at best. Yet, on Berk, he remembered something new about his past and his family every few days.

He had cried when he remembered his mother’s name: Kári.

However, in the same memory of his mother’s name came the lesson she had taught him on how to fold sunshine. Jack had dropped the mace he had been polishing for Gobber at the time and had searched around the blacksmith’s hut for a piece of cloth. He had found a few scraps and got to work on folding sunshine. It had taken a few attempts, but he had managed to capture the sunshine in the cloth and the result was much needed as the rays lit the dark space.

With the light, the ex-spirit found himself perched on a ledge about ten feet off the ground. The ledge was narrow and jagged, but he couldn’t see very far since a combination of rocks and ice obstructed his view. A flash of black out of the corner of his eye had Jack jerking his head towards the left, his fear skyrocketing as his hand tightened on his staff readying to fight off the malevolent entity. Only for the ex-spirit to fall backwards when a large black head popped up as claws dug in the ice trying to climb up.

“Gah!”

The black menace let out his own screech as he slid backwards, skidding back towards the ice below.

“Don’t do that!” Jack reflexively yelped, putting his hand over his pounding chest. Another screech from the dragon had, the brunet crawling to the edge and peering over to see the agitated black menace pacing back and forth, gazing upwards. Jack looked at the dragon and pondered out loud. “How’d you get here? And where’s your rider?”

Another desperate attempt to get on the ledge the Guardian perched on had the dragon hitting the ground harder than before.

“Okay, he’s up top,” the brunet inferred, wincing at the loud roar which came from the dragon. Then he remembered Gustav had gushed on and on about The Dragon Riders of Berk – he could just hear the capital letters in the child’s excitement – when he had asked the children to tell him a few stories of their own. The young Viking had spoken mainly about Snotlout Jorgenson and the dragon Hookfang, but the other children had chipped in their tidbits about the other Dragon Riders. “But how are you down here without him? You’re the one that can’t fly without him, right?”

This time, when the dragon tried to crawl on the ledge, his swipe barely missed Jack.

“Hey now!” the Guardian of Fun scooted backwards as a precaution. The black menace’s claws were really sharp, they had dug gouges into the ice already and Jack didn’t want to see what they could do to human flesh. “Oh Manny, don’t I wish you made me able to speak Dragonese, this would have been a whole lot easier otherwise.”

After a few more attempts from the black menace, the dragon quit trying to get on to the ledge and just prowled back and forth below. Jack tentatively crawled forward and peered down cautiously. When he determined he wasn’t going to become crispy and best served covered in ketchup, the ex-spirit hung his legs over the edge and ran a hand through his hair.

Catching the acid green eyes in his own, the Guardian leaned forward. “Okay, listen up – Toothless is it? – we’re stuck in here together for the time being. The way we came in, we aren’t going out, even if either one of us could fly, the opening is no longer an option with the cave-in. My sunshine will last for a time being as long as I don’t fully open the cloth, but it won’t last forever; the best chance we have would be move forward together. Sounds good?”

Toothless roared and turned his back on Jack, headed towards the only path available to them. Rolling his eyes, the ex-spirit tied the cloth with the folded sunshine to his staff and swung down. He landed on the icy surface – slipping only a little – and followed the dragon. However, as they walked through the bulging pathway with then compressing into a tiny opening, Jack couldn’t help but feel like they were being watched. Toothless didn’t seem to get the feeling. What the brunet assumed were the dragon’s ears would twitch occasionally in his direction before twisting forward. Never once did the dragon’s ears seem to pick up on anything in the glacier.

Finally, the folded sunshine started to flicker in and out after what Jack estimated two to three hours of walking and climbing over ice chucks looking for a way out. They had to double back a few times when they ran into a dead-end after taking one path of a fork only to have to take another guess on what way to go. The teenager approximation it was probably late into the evening, given that it had been an hour or such after the midday meal when he had stumbled upon the Dragon Riders suck in the tree.

To put it short, Jack was tired.

Folding the sunshine back up to conserve what little remained; Jack used his staff to slowly lower himself to the ground. He grimaced to hold back the grunt of pain while sitting down. His muscles pulled, making him aware of some new pains he hadn’t been aware off after the fall. There were pains in places he didn’t even know existed. Even through his own creaks, the Guardian could hear Toothless grunt at the sudden lack of light and he had the feeling the dragon was glaring at him through the dark cavern.

“I’m tired, and I _am_ going to rest. If you don’t like it, you can go on without me,” the immortal teenager breathed out in sheer exhaustion. There was a high pitch whine before a burst of light came from what the brunet assumed was Toothless and hit one of the rocks which peppered the glacier’s path. The rock glowed from the intense heat, giving off a slight light but not as much as the folded sunshine. Be that as it may, it allowed Jack the ability to see, even if it was just barely. “Thanks.”

The ex-spirit sat in silence and soaked up the warmth from the rock. When he was moving, Jack could ignore the chill of the ice around him. Now though, he couldn’t ignore the temperature and really wished he had his fur pelt cloak. The rock helped to an extent, it kept the frostbite at bay. Nonetheless, the former wielder of ice and frost was – ironically – freezing.

Setting his staff aside, Jack reached into his rear pouch and put the folded sunshine back while pulling out the little he carried on his person. Currently, he had some preserved fish wrapped up in some cloth. Initially the fish had been his lunch, but Periwinkle and some of the other Dewdrop Faeries had gotten him some fresh fruits – and where that had come from, they weren’t telling – as a thank you for getting the children of Berk to set up their own trading posts of Rowan bowls carved with runes. As soon as the Guardian unwrapped the fish, Toothless snatched the food out of the material and hungrily gobbling the small portion down.

“I’m not in the mood for this,” Jack shook his head too tired to be angry. He was tired, in pain, and hungry and now there was nothing he could do about the latter of which. He could do something about the former of which and laid down on the frozen ground, turning away from the dragon. “I was going to share anyways.”

Unbeknownst to the immortal teenager, Toothless froze at Jack’s words. Turning toward the brunet he had stolen food from twice now, the dragon hunched into himself when he saw the small shivering form. His head lowered even more, passed his shoulders and ear-plates back when the shivering got worse. Cautiously, he crept over to the teenager and circled around Jack to see he was already sleeping. Walking around him a few more times, the dragon laid down next to the brunet and covered the shivering form with his wing. After a moment, the shivering lessened and his breathing became easier.

* * *

Jack bolted awake upon hearing the Toothless’s roar. His hand grabbing at the staff at his side and he looked around the dark, trying to find the dragon. A blast of fire narrowly missed his head, but it gave ex-spirit enough light to see the dragon fighting against some incorporeal black mass. Another blast from Toothless hit a rock, heating it up and lighting up the immediate vicinity, allowing Jack a better look at the black _thing_ the dragon was battling.

The creature had an indistinct, shadow-like figure which seemed to shift like flames for its body with only one feature that remained the same: a tricorne hat. A pirate hat. Jack had a sinking suspicion he knew what the creature was. He had heard stories from Sandy about beings traversing the Sea of Stars on airships, chasing down and extinguishing shooting stars. However, they and their ship had been lost when Manny’s ship, the _Moon Clipper_ , was damaged. Yet, the creature Toothless was battling against bore a striking resemblance to the golden figures of the Dream Pirates the Sandman had created during in his story.

“Get down,” the Guardian of Fun yelled. Thankfully the dragon listened, lowering itself to the floor which allowed Jack to safely jump over him. He gripped his staff with both hands and swung it in a diagonal downwards motion, slicing through what Jack thought to be a Dream Pirate’s body from its shoulder to its hip. He barreled into the top half of the creature, knocking it to the ground and planted his staff in the creature’s arm to keep it from lashing out with its sword.

“Toothless, blast that half before it has a chance to reform,” Jack shouted, fighting to keep the thrashing top half of the creature down. From what he remembered from Sandy’s stories, the creatures could, for a lack of a better analogy, stich themselves up if allowed to get into contact with their detached limb. The dragon’s claws dug into the ice as a ball of bluish-white light formed in his mouth before incinerating the Dream Pirate’s lower extremities.

“Great, now take care of _him_ ,” the brunet grunted, grabbing the Dream Pirate by the shoulders and rolling forward. When the creature was above him, he let go of the shadow-like figure and kicked it upwards. Another blasted had finished the Dream Pirate off.

Breathing heavily, a growing smile formed on Jack’s face as hysterically laughter bubbled out of his throat. “Oh good, that was close. Too close.”

Toothless walked over him and looked down on to the chucking teenager. He inspected him and nudged him with his nose when Jack didn’t immediately get up. Pushing the dragon’s face away, the brunet sat up.

“I’m alright. No harm, how about you?” Jack began looking the dragon over. Toothless didn’t look like he had any injuries. There was no blood to speak of and it looked like the dragon had lost only a few black scales, but the ex-spirit couldn’t be too sure if they had been lost in the fall or the fight. “Thank for the help. But that seemed a little bit too easy. Sandy said they were near indestructible, relentless creatures and that wasn’t nearly as hard as it should have been.”

As Jack spoke, the light from the rock grew dim and they were slowly being plunged into darkness. Not that neither dragon nor immortal teenager noticed. They did, however, notice the sound of wind being parted as something flew through the air at incredible speeds which had both of them moving as one out of the way. Only then did Jack take notice of the waning light as he was plunged into darkness once more and something brush up against his leg.

A pained screech came from Toothless that had the Guardian scrambling to find the dragon, the lack of light making it impossible. Fumbling around in the dark for a moment, Jack cursed at his own stupidity as he dug around his pouch and produced the folded sunshine. This time, he didn’t carefully unwrap the light and let the rays out a little at a time. No, this time he flung the cloth open with one motion.

The light, though almost gone, was still blinding when release all at once. Jack had a moment to see a much larger shadow-like creature pinning the dragon to the ground – the pirate’s long sword positioned to strike a blow – before he had to shield his eyes. For a few moments, he just stood there, eyes covered with his arm and then he felt Toothless nudge his side. Slowly, he lowered his arm as the light died away and he witnessed the frozen form of the Dream Pirate burn away.

“I think it’s time we got out of here,” Jack breathed out as they were bathed in the darkness once more. He did not want to find out if the age old adage ‘the third time’s the charm’ was true or not.

A responding growl was all the approval the ex-spirit needed for them to get going.

Together, they traveled down the uneven pathway the deteriorating glacier had to offer. Jack had to rely on his staff and, surprisingly enough, Toothless for guidance though the black abyss. He didn’t know how the dragon did it, but Toothless was able to navigate through the darkness. The Guardian was able to follow him thanks to the constant rumbles Toothless produced. Finally, a cool breeze hit his face and Jack could tell they had reached a large opening in the glacier. With any luck, there could be a way out if the breeze was anything to go by.

“Can you light it up?” Jack asked holding his hand out and feeling around blindly.

Toothless complied by firing up into the air where the blast exploded into a burst of light. The intense luminosity allowed Jack to make out a twisted wreckage frozen in time. There before amber eyes was a black ship with multiple massive black sails split in half at the second mast and rotting ropes dangling uselessly. Most of the ship was encrusted in the glacier, only the bow of the boat was free of the icy hold. However, the lettering on the stern – which was hard to make out but still legible – and the ice blocks around the bow surround the ship was what had Jack stock-still.

It was the _Nightmare Galleon_ along with the rest of its Dream Pirate crew imprisoned in ice.

“Okay, this is much worse,” the Guardian of Fun lamented flatly while his mind was racing. The _Nightmare Galleon_ was the ship which had crippled the _Moon_ _Clipper_ only to never be heard of again. Not even Manny knew what happened to it from what Sandy had told him and Jack had the misfortune of finding out where it had gone accidently. His luck sucked, big time.

“The earlier tremor must have freed the Dream Pirates we dealt, that was why they were weak,” the ex-spirit theorized, eyes darting around from the whole ship to the little blocks of ice containing a few of the pirates which had disembarked before being frozen over. Jack noted a few such blocks split cracked open, all missing their occupants.   “We need to go, now.”

As the light fades, the immortal teenager felt a shiver go up his spine. The shadowy pirates in their tombs seemed to shift and become more alive. It was almost like the Dream Pirates were awake and aware inside those blocks of ice. Jack was alerted to Toothless’s telltale sign of the dragon’s blast and turns to see the glowing light building up in his mouth directed towards one of the pirates.

“No, _don’t!_ ” But it was too late; the blast hit the ice head on and shards of ice flew everywhere. At first nothing happens, the Dream Pirate inside had a giant hole through it and it didn’t move. The ex-spirit held his breath hoping nothing more would happen. Slowly, however, the hole through the pirate started to stitch back together while glowing eyes opened before they all vanished in darkness. “Crap.”

That was all Jack could get out before he was thrown backwards by sheer force. He heard Toothless roar and fire a few more shots which sounded suspiciously like more blocks being broken, but was too dazed to do anything about it. Although, he wasn’t dazed enough to roll out of the way when he felt something suspiciously like the tip of a blade graze his ear. Instinctually, the Guardian whipped out his crook and swung blindly, throwing himself into the fray. Yet, he couldn’t hit what he couldn’t see.

The only time the immortal teenager was able to make contact with one of the Dream Pirates was when Toothless fired off one of his blasts. With the brief bursts of light, Jack was able to beat back the ever growing number of pirates surrounding him. Yet, the blasts were few and far between, the dragon mostly used his claws, teeth, and tail to battle against the shadowy beings. Together, they weren’t making a dent in the number of Dream Pirates as the malevolent entities were capable reforming themselves after each attack and did so liberally.

“Toothless, now would be a good time for another one of those blast of yours,” Jack gritted out, struggling to hold his staff horizontally as various unseen pirates rammed against the piece of wood. One claw came dangerously close to his head, pulling a few strands of brown hair from his scalp. The whine of the dragon’s fire began to build up which was music to the ex-spirit’s ears but with no ensuing blast had his stomach dropping. “What’s going on? Shouldn’t there be a boom? We really need a boom.”

A whine came from the dragon and Jack had the feeling Toothless was in distressed himself. Another attempt had a glow forming at least but the building up blast was feeble at best. The light did allow Jack to see the dragon being surrounded by the Dream Pirates, his tail whipped out keeping some of them at bay. However, others were getting uncomfortable closer and one got in a lucky blow which had the meager forming blast dispersing harmlessly.

With strength he didn’t know he had, Jack shoved his staff forward, knocking the pirates back and ran toward where he had last seen Toothless. He had to rely on his ears to pinpoint where the Dream Pirates were in order to weave through the malevolent entities, duck and dodge their blades, which he somehow managed to do. Although, Jack wasn’t all too successful, since he rammed into a few of them along the ways.

Estimated where he thought the Toothless was, the Guardian swung his crook with as much strength as he could muster.

“Why don’t you leave him alone and pick on someone your own size?” the immoral teenager bellowed.

He was astonished when his staff actually made contact with at least two of the Dream Pirates. He was able to fight his way to the cool scaly side of Toothless, only then did he turned around and press his back against the dragon.

“Okay, now what do we do?” Jack groaned as something hit his ankle which had his leg buckling. “No offense Toothless, but I really wish it was either Bunny or Sandy here with me, they would know what to do. Me? I have no idea. We need help here.”

A soft golden glow from the corner of his eye had the ex-spirit turning his head towards Toothless hoping beyond all hope that the dragon was able to build up enough for another blast. Yet, the light wasn’t coming from Toothless. It was coming from his rear pouch. With a shaky hand he reaching in and pulled out another of his folded sunshine cloths he didn’t even remember having. Jack had only been able to create two cloths of folded sunshine and he swore up and down he had left the second at Gobber’s hut. Not caring how the piece of cloth got into his pouch, the ex-spirit completely unfurled the cloth.

The intensity of the sun blasted out of the cloth, swirling out and caressing the immortal teenager and the black dragon before surging forward, eating away at the Dream Pirates encircling them. It disintegrated the pirates closest to the trapped duo and tore the shadowy beings further back apart. However, when the light extended to a ten foot radius around Jack, it seemed to stop. Amber eyes widened and fumbled with the cloth trying to get the material to release more light, yet none was forth coming.

There was no more light to had.

“No, please no,” Jack desperately begged sinking to his knees, “we need more light.”

Rays of sunshine began to recede and the Dream Pirate – who had scattered back – followed the diminishing threat back towards the origin. Their intentions to eliminate the wielder of said threat once and for all telegraphed with each move they made. Blades scrapped up against each other, making a distinctive sound as the shadow creatures came nearer and nearer. Toothless let out an alarmed whine, moving closer to the teenager, his tail wrapping around the two of them. Jack didn’t perceive any of this, his eyes scrunched closed as tight as possible as he keep mumbling incoherently under his breath.

“We need more light,” the ex-spirit spoke quietly. The sunrays froze two feet away from no longer enveloping them in their folds, wavering from receding backwards anymore and seemingly were fighting to spread forward again. For a moment, the sunshine appeared to be conflicted, not sure what to do. The light in the cloth being used up and yet it was drawing on Jack’s desire to protect and his need to eradicate the Dream Pirates to keep itself alight.

“We need more light!” Jack shouted, eyes snapping open. However, they were no longer their mortal amber color, neither were they the icy blue of winter. No, they blazed gold, the same gold which flowed into the sunshine and exploded outward. The radiance raced out – filling the cavern while harmlessly bathing Toothless in its golden glow – heading towards the _Nightmare Galleon_. It eradicating all the Dream Pirates in its way and proceeded to break apart the ship plank by plank.

The light didn’t stop with the destruction of the _Galleon_ and its crew. It kept going further and further. Searching for a way out and when the light couldn’t find an exit, it made one. Fracturing the glacier and breaking it apart.

Toothless screeched as the area around them began to crack and chunks fall away. Jack barely registered the sound, his head swirling as he became the fuel for the light’s power. He didn’t know how to break off the flow, only that the golden glow was feeding off of him to grow and he didn’t have much more to give. Finally, before the light could completely break through the ice, it started to dim and flicker, dying. Once the radiance was gone, the ex-spirit toppled forward, drained and unconscious.

It was too late though, the glacier was on the edge of collapsing in on itself. Toothless had to leap back in order to dodge a large icicle as it embedded itself in to the ground. A distressed trilled came from the dragon as he looked back to where he had left the unconscious brunet only to see the icicle standing upright; the chunk of ice then fell as another rumble shook the glacier to reveal an unharmed boy. Toothless vaulted over the icicle and flared his wings out in time to shield the brunet from more falling debris.

That was when the glacier finally gave away and the icy world collapsed around the two.

* * *

Jack had anticipated waking up in his own time with white hair and frost at his fingertips. To open blue eyes and see the cluttered toys and ice sculptures of North’s workshop, to see the Warren’s beautiful gardens and majestic trees, to be on the Island of the Sleepy Sands overlooking the golden sandy beaches with mermaids right outside the window of Sandy’s castle, to see the oriental designs influenced by the Sisterhood of Flight in Punjam Hy Loo; but his eyes didn’t see any of his mind’s desires.

When Jack opened his eyes, he saw warn wooden planks and the dreary colors he had come to associate with Berk. The multiple swords, bludgeons, axes, and assortment of metal goods let the teenager know he was in Gobber’s hut. Looking around, slightly disoriented from the change in vantage point, Jack realized he wasn’t in the small loft which was his usual sleeping place. Instead, his numerous pelts and blankets had been moved – along with him – to rest beside the blazing hearth fire.

Despite all the coverings and the burning fire, Jack barely felt warm let alone hot yet he wasn’t shivering either. Pushing the furs away back, the teenager was surprised to find his staff resting next to him underneath the covers. His clothing had been changed – or at least his shirt had been – to a long sleeved green tunic that looked familiar but he couldn’t place where. The brunet had no doubt his brown shirt had been destroyed, but at least it wasn’t his whole outfit, again. He was still wearing his deerskin pants and his blue arm warmers were peeking out from underneath the shirt he was wearing, so he knew they survived at least.

Collecting his crook, the Guardian pushed himself up and headed for the door slowly. His body was sore, but didn’t ache as it should have, so the teenager knew it had to have been a day or two at the least since he had last been conscious. Jack stopped at the door and looked down at pile of his belts, pouches, and boots next to entry. Sighing, he rested the staff against the wall and sat down, pulling on the boots. He didn’t bother with his belts and pouches; there was no need for them.

Staff once more in hand, Jack headed out the door into the evening light of the sun. Everyone was hustling and bustling about, hurrying to finish up what they were doing. None of them took notice of him as he lethargically walked through their rush and out of the village all together. All of this indicated to the ex-spirit that it was an hour or so before the evening meal which made leaving the village effortlessly.

Once passed the village, the brunet keep on walking at a slow sedated pace and didn’t stop until he reached his intended destination: the cove. From the time when he came to Berk, the cove seemed to have all the answers he had been looking for or he had received them after leaving the area. Mr. Vadderung had first clued him in on his jaunt into the past and the reason for magic sending him here in the first place. He had first run into Hiccup and Toothless here as well and later Toothless had been the one to lead him to the _Nightmare_ _Galleon_. Maybe it would work again for him.

Sitting down on the shoreline of the lake, Jack set his crook over his crossed legs. Fingers idly played with a small blade of grass just sprouting through the ground. He ended up breaking off a piece of it without evening meaning to as he waited, for what he didn’t know. The Guardian thought Mr. Vadderung might turn up at some point or magic would whisk him away. Nothing happened.

“I did what you wanted,” Jack whispered, twisting the blade of grass between his fingers, rolling it up and unrolling it all with the same motion.   His amber gaze unfocused and transfixed on the green grass. “I got rid of the _Nightmare Galleon_ and her crew.”

Moving the twisted greenery to the middle of his palm, amber eyes concentrate on the blade for a little bit. Again, nothing happened, and he let out a sigh which blew the bit of grass into the waters. Jack slowly lowered his hand to rest in his lap along with his staff.

“I could have done it faster if I hadn’t been bound by mortal limitations. I could have made sure the Dream Pirates would have never become unfrozen in the first place. I will concede I got the job done without them; sure, I’ll give you that. But it would have been easier to take them out with my ice,” Jack’s voice got a little louder, before becoming soft once again. “Granted, I have no idea how I took them out, but I did it.”

The splash of water as a fish jumped to catch an evening snack was the only thing heard for some time after. Jack uselessly picked up stone and discarded those he found unworthy. Those he found worthwhile would be tossed across the lake, skipping two or more times before sinking into the waters below.

“What more do you want from me? What more do I have to do?” Jack asked broken. “What do I have to do to go home?”

Still, there were no answers, not that the immortal teenager really expected any. He had gone three hundred years without hearing a word from Manny; he had no inclination to believe magic was any different. If the light dimmed around him somewhat, he wrote it off on the setting sun.

Jack sat there for a time, skipping rocks and wondering what he had done wrong. The ambient noises blended together and he didn’t give them much attention. Not even when the winds picked up and sang as they parted. Neither did he take notice of the crunching of rocks and gravel. He did feel the winds gusting around him, caressing his form, trying to brighten his mood but eventually gave up when he was unresponsive and blew passed him.

“You have Gobber and pretty much the rest of the village worried about you,” a nasal voice said from behind the motionless brunet. He didn’t even need to turn around to see who it was, Hiccup’s voice was unique. “I don’t blame you.”

That had Jack turning his head and curious amber eyes locked with eyes almost the same shade as the grass he had been idly toying with earlier. Red seeped into the Dragon Rider’s cheeks as his eyes wondered out onto the lake and his fingers played with the x-shape brown leather straps of the strange harness with extended shoulder pads which replaced his usual fur vest. The brunet’s eyes were drawn to the motion which was when he noticed the green long-sleeved tunic Hiccup was wearing. Amber eyes darted back and forth between the shirt he wore and the one the auburn haired teen wore; they were the exact same, save for his was a size smaller and didn’t reach as far down on him as they did on the other boy.

“I mean, it’s just sometimes you’ve got to have some space to think after an ordeal like that, ya know and… yeah… I just wanted to let you know I understand,” Hiccup fumbled, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt all the while.

Jack nodded his head in acknowledgement – which had the chief’s son took as a go ahead to sit down beside him – and looked out back at the lake. The two sat in silence for some time and at one point, the immortal teenager chucked one of his skipping stones across the water. A beat later, another stone skipped across the water which had Jack turning his head to see the auburn hair Dragon Rider searching for another rock. When he noticed amber eyes staring at him, Hiccup gave a tentative smile.

Selecting another rock of his own, Jack sent it sailing across the lake, skipping at least half a dozen times which was double the amount of skips as the other teenager’s stone. From there, it dissolved into a silent competition of who could skip their rock the most. It was kind of nice and Jack felt lucky that Hiccup wasn’t probing him for answers on why he had left. However, an impatient dragon broke the comfortable comradery that had been growing between the two teens by nudging the brunet on the side causing his stone to sink to the bottom of the lake without a single skip.

Jack also ended up toppling over at the unexpected prod. He would have landed on the ground if Hiccup had not been sitting so close next to him. As it was, the Guardian ended up crashing into the Dragon Rider who caught him by the shoulders, keeping him upright. Jack tensed in the gentle hold and quickly sat back up, distancing himself from the touch.

Toothless nudged the brunet again, this time more intensively. Doglike green eyes were wide with large pupils were right in Jack’s face, making sure he had the teen’s attention before pulling back. This allowed Jack to see a large fishing dangling from its tail clutched in the dragon’s teeth. The black menace – who the ex-spirit had to admit wasn’t much of a menace anymore – set the fish down on the ground, pushing it towards the immortal teenager with his nose, a bashful look on his face.

“It’s Toothless’s way of apologizing,” Hiccup explained drawing amber eyes back to him. Blood once more rushed to the Dragon Rider’s cheeks and green eyes immediately looked everywhere else than at Jack. “I too… uh… what I want to say is that we seemed to have gotten off on the wrong foot and I would like to start over.”

It was Jack turn to look away, because as much fault as their first meeting had been because of Hiccup, the immortal teenager was just as much to blame. He had let his temper get the better of him. The memories he had been forced to relive like they had happened only the previous day had affected him greatly, but the Guardian shouldn’t have taken it out on Hiccup. They both had gotten off on the wrong foot as the auburn hair teenager had said and it wasn’t fair to either of them. With a nod of his head, Jack put the past behind him and moved forward with his life.

“Hi, I’m Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third of the Haddock House, Heir to the Hairy Hooligan Tribe, and am currently sixteen summers old,” Hiccup introduced himself with giant grin spreading across his face.

“Jackson Overland, fourteen winters old, relocated descendant of the Druid Clan Taliesin, the last member,” Jack recited back in a similar fashion. The last part almost producing a slight frown but he held it at bay because that was new information to him. Yet, it sounded right. He would have to look into his memories about that at a later date.

“Fourteen? But, I thought… I mean it’s just,” Hiccup staggered, tongue twisted at the revelation of the ex-spirit’s age. The immortal teenager briefly wondered what the Viking would say if he told him his _real_ age and not that of his appearance but quickly dismissed the idea in favor of taking the fish from Toothless as the dragon nudged him for a third time.

“Yeah, I’m a hiccup apparently. At least I can say I’m taller than a sixteen summers old,” Jack chuckled, eying the crispy fish in his hands. Turning his attention back towards the dragon’s rider, the Guardian noticed the uncomfortable look on Hiccup’s face and was quick to reassure him that no offense was taken. “Don’t worry about it; I’ve had _centuries_ to deal with it.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Hiccup sighed as he looked back out at the lake with a forlorn expression. It took the brunet a minute to connect the dots regarding the other teen’s comment, but when it did click, Jack couldn’t keep the disbelief out of his voice.

“This coming from the Pride of Berk?” the ex-spirit asked, cocking his eye brow. “I’d say you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“You’d think, but being the son of Stoick the Vast, not as easy as it seems,” the auburn haired teenager said with a slight lopsided smile. “Besides, you seem pretty important as well, being a member of the Talsin clan.”

“Not so much,” Jack shrugged, not bothering to correct Hiccup. He would have agreed with the Dragon Rider, if he had been born years prior by a few decades and he wasn’t currently relieving a few memories that the auburn haired teenager’s words brought to the surface.

Kári Overland had been the granddaughter of the last remaining Druid of the Taliesin clan who protected the knowledge of where the Valley of the Fallen Kings was located. By the time she had been born, her father had crossed the oceans to the New Land and she was left to be raised by her mother and grandfather. It was only through her grandfather she had learned the Druid traditions. When she was twelve, disaster struck in the former of a sickness which claimed her grandfather and mother’s lives. She was then sent to the New Land to be with her father, but upon her arrival, she had found her father had betrothed her to a devoted Christian he had met on his travels.

“Not anymore,” the brunet spoke softly, surfacing through the memories which bombarded his mind. “Besides, being the Conqueror of the Red Death and the Tamer of a Night Fury makes you more important than me.”

“You’ve heard about that, huh?” Hiccup answered, letting out an edgy laugh while running his hand through his auburn hair.

“Just want the rumors have to say. Most people talk about how you were able to train a Night Fury and your heroic journey to defeat the Red Death,” the Guardian admitted, breaking off a piece of the crisp fish and eating it. He didn’t grimace at the taste, since he was getting use to the flavorless and bland food, but it was a near thing. Although this time at least, there was some flavor; burnt smoke, but a flavor all the same.

He broke off another piece and offered it to Toothless, who happily snatched the food up. Jack quickly recoiled his hand and watched as the Night Fury ate the larger portion of the fish. He hesitated for a moment before reaching out and petting the dragon’s head. Toothless stilled and the Guardian started to pull his hand away only for the Night Fury to lean forward, brushing his nose up against the outstretched hand.

“There’s more to it than that,” the chief’s son down played his achievement, watching as the brunet’s interaction with Toothless. “It’s a long story.”

“I’d like to hear it,” Jack said earnestly, breaking off another piece of the chard fish and offering it to the dragon.

“Okay,” Hiccup found himself agreeing. “But only if you tell me more about Jokul Frosti I’ve been hearing so much about.”


	10. The Turning Tides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said that I use wikias liberally to use existing characters? Well, in this chapter, I made up my own characters (something I rarely due because I dislike overly powered OCs that take over the stories). However, in this case, the characters wrote themselves in the story. Hope you guys like them.

“Wow, I’ve never heard of Jokul Frosti, but he sure sounds like something,” Hiccup remarked when Jackson was done weaving his incredible tale of the personification of winter.

“He is relatively unheard of, but he does protect those who acknowledge him,” the brunet brushed off as he gracefully climbed to his feet and stretched. A few pops could be heard which seemed to satisfy the teenager who proceeded to kick up his staff up and snatched it out of the air.

“Then he has another believer in me,” the Dragon Rider assured, having a bit of difficulty standing up on with his metal leg compared to the nimble motions coming from his companion.

“I’d think he’d like that,” Jackson smiled, amber eyes drifting over the lake which had vivid green eyes copying the gesture.

The lake had blossomed with activity as multiple fish disturbed the surface of the water looking for a meal. The rays of light were peering around the tree trunks as the sun neared the horizon. Feeling movement at his side, Hiccup looked over to find Toothless nudging him insistently. When the dragon saw he had gained his rider’s attention, he let out low warbling whine and turned to stare at the sun. It was then the auburn haired teenager noticed how late it had become without him having realizing it.

“What’s up with Toothless?” Jackson asked in concern. He looked like he wanted to reach out and check if there was something wrong with the dragon, but held himself back. No doubt, he was still a little wary of Toothless.

“Uh… it’s sunset, we usually take a flight around the island around now,” Hiccup nodded his head towards the setting sun. When the Night Fury nudged him again, the chief’s son stroked the dragon’s nose to keep him pacified for the moment.

The brunet made a noise of acknowledgement in the back of his throat and nodded. “I won’t keep you then. Besides, I should probably be heading back now if I want to make it back before nightfall. See you back at the Great Hall for dinner?”

Hiccup usually didn’t eat the communal food served in Great Hall. It was one of the perks of being the son of the chief, food would be brought to his hut on the days his father didn’t feel like cooking and sent for food to be delivered. Although, he did attend the feasts and would have a meal in the Great Hall for special occasions. This, he considered, counted as such.

“Sure,” the auburn haired teen agreed, facing Jackson who was idly spinning his shepherd’s staff from his right hand to the left. Toothless – having enough of being ignored – squirmed his way between the two teenagers, nuzzling his face against each of them one at a time.   “Alright, alright already, Bud, we’ll go.”

The dragon’s eagerness to fly made the brunet smile with what the Dragon Rider could only describe as a wistfully smile. Hiccup had to stroke the Night Fury’s head to get him to settle down so he could wrap up their conversation, which he still couldn’t believe was fourteen. He had more meat on his bones at fourteen than Jackson currently had.

“I’ll save you a seat in the Great Hall then?” Hiccup cautiously suggested.

“Sure,” Jackson nodded his head with a brilliant smile on his face. Giving Toothless a scratch behind his ear-plate and with a parting wave, he made his way back to the village. The auburn haired teenager watched as the brunet leisurely made his way up and out of the cove. Only when the figure disappeared between the budding trees did the Dragon Rider turned back to Toothless.

“Alright Buddy,” Hiccup conceded, mounting the dragon and hooking the safety straps from his riding harness to the saddle and double checked where they attached to the harness for good measure. Once he was satisfied with his safety, the auburn haired teen placed his metal foot into the stirrup which controlled Toothless’s tail with an audible click. “Let’s fly.”

The Night Fury didn’t need any more encouragement and unfolded his wings. With one powerful flap, they were off. Once in the sky, Hiccup was aware of all the tension from the day seeping out of his body. It was in the sky where he felt the most alive and the most at ease. Up here, he was free. There was no pressure of being Stoick the Vast’s hiccup of a son – even if his father insisted he was he was named to scare away the trolls and not because of his status as a runt – nor was he the Hero of Berk that the villagers looked to for guidance or blamed whenever there was a dragon related problem. No, up here, it was just him and Toothless, leaving all their worries down below.

“What the-?” Hiccup uttered, noticing an abnormal movement down in the forest below. It took him a moment to grasp what he was seeing, but then he realized the fast moving green and brown blob was Jackson gleefully running through the forest. Although, running would imply the teen was on the ground, which wasn’t the case. More than not, the brunet’s boots did not touch the ground being too busy pushing off tree bark while his hands or staff would seize the next tree branch to propel himself forward.

Toothless must have seen Jackson too, because he opened his wings wider to catch more wind, slowing down, and dropping lower to the treetops. The dragon tilted his head, wide pupils darting every which way, tracking the teenager’s movement.

“Isn’t that something?” Hiccup remarked in awe which soon turned into chuckles at the Night Fury’s fascination with watching the darting figure. The Dragon Rider had to admit, he was astonished; he remembered how Jackson had effortlessly climbed the tree to get Snotlout and Astrid down. However, that little stunt was nothing compared to the display below. Astrid would be hard pressed to the acrobatics the brunet was performing without faltering once.

“Toothless!” the Dragon Rider suddenly screeched as Toothless unexpected dived. Even though he knew he was bound to the dragon, Hiccup automatically tightened his hold on his saddle. He had to scrunch up his eyes to keep them from watering too much from the sheer force of the plunge. Nevertheless, that didn’t mean he didn’t see exactly where the Night Fury was headed. “No! Don’t You Dare! _TOOTHLESS!_ ”

Toothless did not heed his rider’s words as his claws gripped on to the green fabric of the tunic Jackson currently wore and promptly changed trajectory to head straight up into the sky. The dragon, after getting enough altitude, leaned back and released his grip on the burnet at the peak, continuing on with the loop so Jackson – who had corrected himself from the unexpected pick up – landed on Toothless’s back behind Hiccup.

The teenager’s right arm holding his staff slung around the top of Hiccup’s should while his left arm snaked under the Dragon Rider’s left arm to grab onto the piece of wood. Not a moment too soon either, as the Night Fury took it upon himself to do a barrel roll in one direction before twisting and doing a second barrel roll in the opposite direction. Hiccup could faintly hear the brunet behind him let out some kind of indecipherable noise over the winds whipping passed his ear and he felt all the progress he had made with the other boy just vanish due to Toothless’s thoughtless action.

“I am _so_ sorry for this,” the auburn hair teen moaned once they were no longer doing numerous barrel rolls one after another. He could already see their tentative friendship going up in the proverbial dragon’s flame.

“I’m not!” Jackson whopped and this time, the Dragon Rider could hear that it was laughter coming out of the brunet’s mouth and not screams off terror. “That was amazing! What else can you guys do?”

Hiccup was dumbfounded. All of the other Dragon Riders would balk at the mere thought of riding any dragon performing such maneuvers. Sure, the others did their own stunts on their dragons, but never did they go as fast or as far as Hiccup dared to go. Astrid had made it perfectly clear she would never go on Toothless again if he dared to execute the aerobatics tricks he had done during the beginning portion of her first unwitting ride on the Night Fury. Yet, here was some foreigner not only unfazed by the aerial maneuvers but asking for more.

“You heard him, Bud, let’s show Jackson what you can do,” Hiccup said with a smirk, the brunet didn’t know what he was in for, but he was going to make sure it was an experience the foreigner would never forget.

Toothless perked up and put on a boast of speed and headed up into the clouds once more. He then drew his wings in and dived, gaining speed. The Dragon Rider could feel Jackson behind him becoming weightless from the plummet. The brunet only managed to stay on the dragon’s back because of his grasp on the piece of wood pressed up against Hiccup’s chest.

Looking over his shoulder, the chief’s son was met with Jackson’s face mere inches from his own as the other teen peered over his shoulder to get a better view, a giant smile across his face. Toothless abruptly opened his wings mere feet from the ocean waves below, which had the brunet whooping and laughing as the tips of the dragon’s wings touching the water, splashing the two teens.

Turning his attention back in front of him, Hiccup looked at the upcoming rock stacks and grinned. Shifting his metal leg, the mechanic tail shifted positions and, as if reading his rider’s mind, the Night Fury went even faster. They didn’t go around the sea stacks. Rather they swerved and weaved through the rock formations jutting out of the ocean. All the while, their passenger was happily hooting and hollering no matter what they throw his way or how fast they were going.

Coming out the other side of the sea stacks, Hiccup angled the dragon back up into the sky before leveling out and slowing down to the point they were lazily flying through the low floating clouds. It was from there they could see the sun finally sinking below the ocean.

“It’s serene up here, so peaceful,” the chief’s son breathed out and Toothless let out a low warble in agreement as they all watched the sunset. “So-”

“Free,” Jackson cut him off causing the Dragon Rider to turn his head and look at the tranquil expression on the brunet’s face as the winds ruffled his hair.

“Yeah, free,” Hiccup agreed turning back to the sunset and smiled. His heart lifting at finally finding a kindred spirit who enjoyed the sky as much as Toothless and he did. Patting the Night Fury on the head, the auburn hair teenager nudged him to turn back. “Come on Bud, time to go home.”

They flew at a much more sedated pace heading back. Jackson was amazed by just about everything below them and his childish glee and wonder was contagious. It was almost liked Hiccup was flying with Toothless for the first time again. When they flew just below clouds, the brunet would reach out and touch, almost like he was trying to grab a handful for his own. Joining a pack of various dragons flying around the island, Jackson looked up at them in awe. By the time Toothless landed near the steps to the Great Hall, the sunlight was a thing of the past.

“Thank you for that,” Jackson said wistfully, relinquishing his hold on his staff with his left hand and unwinding himself from around the chief’s son. For the first time that evening, Hiccup felt cold at the loss of heat but pushed it aside and focused on the brunet’s words. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

“You’re welcome,” the Dragon Rider said as Jackson carefully dismounted the Night Fury and he messed around while unhooking his harness from Toothless’s saddle. His hands weren’t being very cooperative at the moment and were fumbling with the latches. “If you want, I mean that is, Toothless loves flying and really, so do I. So, if you ever want, we can do that again?”

“I’d loved that,” the brunet replied with a fond smile on his face. Finally the hook came free from the saddle, allowing Hiccup to dismount. “Ready to eat?”

“Sure, though, it looks like I didn’t get the chance to save you a seat,” the auburn haired teenager deadpanned as the three of them walked up the steps.

“That’s understandable,” Jackson chuckled, twirling his staff in hand. “So, what do you think they’re serving today? Fish, chicken, or last week’s gruel?”

“Last week’s gruel, because no one ate it then,” the chief’s son answered automatically. A shiver, that had nothing to do with reaching the top of the stairs, went down his spine as a grimace spread across his face at the mere thought of the gruel.

“True, very true; I can’t say I ate it either. Thank Odin, Gobber can cook,” the teenager agreed pushing the giant doors opened. He couldn’t quite do it alone, but Toothless happily threw his weight against the massive wooden door and together they were able to open it and slipped inside.

“I don’t think Odin had anything to do with that,” Hiccup pointed out, bracing his shoulder against the door and forcing it closed.

“Well, you’d be wrong then,” Jackson smirked, glancing at the auburn haired teenager out of the corner of his eyes, “Odin gave Gobber a cookbook, or so he said.”

The Dragon Rider groaned, mentally cursing his mentor for telling tall tales. “You do know that some of the things Gobber tells you are just stories, right?”

“Whoever said I was talking about Gobber?” came the immediate replied paired with a wicked grin. Jackson left a stunned auburn haired teenager standing in the middle of the hall while he headed over to the bust brunette and short dark haired man that were serving the communal food tonight. Watching the other teen’s retreating back, Hiccup had to be pushed forward by Toothless before he was able to regain his wits.

Coming up behind Jackson to wait in line for the food, the shorter teenager nudged the brunet in the side. “That was not a very nice trick.”

“Well, the best tricks sometimes aren’t trick at all, but the truth,” Jackson said, his grin firmly fixed in place. Once again, the chief’s son was left confused.

“What did you mean by that?” Hiccup asked as they reached the front of the line – which he wasn’t sure was a good thing or not considering they had been right in assuming it was last week’s gruel – and took the bowl offered to him by the busty brunette. “Thank you, Mrs. Larson.”

“Thanks Norbert,” the brunet said at the same time, accepting his own bowl from the dark haired man and turning towards the multiple tables. “You’ll just have to figure that out yourself. Now help me find a table.”

Sighing in defeat, the auburn haired teenager scanned the Great Hall and recalled another reason why he rarely came during the communal meals. It was jam-packed and there were hardly any seats available. However, there was a reason the Great Hall was further congested than usual, as there were four dragons circled around one of the table near the back of the hall surrounding their riders.

“Come on, I see one,” Hiccup motioned towards the Academy members. Toothless was already bounding forward, weaving between tables and rowdy Vikings, creating a path for the two teenagers. Jackson falter when he noticed where they were going yet the chief’s son saw the brunet following after a second.

“Hey Hiccup,” Astrid called out, having seen the Night Fury and knowing the auburn haired Viking wasn’t far behind. Scooting over, she made some room for the new arrival who slid onto the newly vacated seat at the end of the bench. “What are you doing here? You usually don’t come to the Great Hall for meals.”

“I told Jackson I’d sit with him tonight,” he explained with a shrug.   Although, the teenager squirmed when he noticed the raised eyebrow the shieldmaiden shoot him. This had the rest of the Dragon Riders turn their attention towards Jackson standing off to the side.

“Hey! You’re the one who dropped me out of the tree-uff,” Snotlout started, pointing accusingly at the other brunet, only to be cutoff by an elbow in the ribs for his trouble.

“What this oaf is trying to say is thank you for getting us down,” Astrid covered for the winching Viking to her right and gestured to the seat across from the chief’s son. “Have a seat.”

Amber eyes darted from the blonde to the rest of the table before resting on Hiccup. After a long pause, Jackson set his bowl down on the oppose side of the table and took the open seat next to Ruffnut. While his movements were as graceful as ever, his posture was stiff and he kept a gap between himself and the Thorston next to him. He set his crook up against the table – well within reach – and grabbed the spoon resting in the bowl.

“You’re welcome. It was no big deal,” Jackson replied, eyes downcast while he stirred the off colored substance which was masquerading as his food.

“No big deal? That was incredible!” Fishlegs exclaimed, leaning over the table to see Jackson around Tuffnut and Ruffnut. “You literally ran up the tree! And those moves! I’ve never seen anything like that! Astrid can do some flips and stuff like that, but nothing compared to what you did.”

Hiccup saw delight pass through amber eyes at the praise when the brunet glanced up, but was quickly hidden as he ducked his head. The grunt from his side had the Head of the Academy turning to see the blonde shieldmaiden glowering at Fishlegs, since she couldn’t fall back on physical violence like she usually did when someone upset her. The heavyset Viking swiftly sat back down and sank in to the bench, easily picking up on the blonde’s telegraphed emotions.

“Naw, that was nothing,” Tuffnut drew everyone’s attention, waving around his spoon in the air. “You should see when he is going all out.”

“Yeah, that’s awesome! It’s like nothing stands in his way, running up the sides of buildings, flipping over rock and vaulting over things with that rod of his,” Ruffnut nodded her head, taking a bite of her gruel and then switching her bowl with her brother’s.

“And how would you know that?” Snotlout sneered setting his empty bowl down on the table and whipping his mouth with his forearm.

Tuffnut rolled his eyes, discretely switched his bowl back with his twin’s. “We’ve watched him, duh.”

“That doesn’t sound creepy in the slightest,” Hiccup muttered, taking a bite of the gruel.  

“It’s not like that,” Jackson chuckled producing a blush on the auburn haired Viking’s face since he hadn’t thought anyone would hear him. “They seem to have a habit of sitting on roofs watching the village chaos below and have watched me running through the village. Granted, they’re usually rooting for me to crash into someone or something.”

“But he always dodges somehow,” the Viking with the dreadlocks deflated, shoulders dropping and missing the stink eye from the brunet on the other side of his sister. “Although, Snuffnut told us we couldn’t root against you anymore.”

“Snuffnut?” Snotlout snorted, barely holding back his disbelief, “who names their kid Snuffnut?”

“Our sister Puffnut,” Ruffnut answered, pointing her spoon towards a woman with a mane of wheat blonde and one blue eye. She wore a sinister smile while polishing an axe twice the size of her arms.

Sitting next to her was a tall dark haired Viking with blue eyes and in between the two sat a small boy who Hiccup recognized as Snuffnut. The child’s messy blond hair and dark blue eyes were the same as the chief’s son remembered when he had been sitting by Jackson’s side during his storytelling. On the other hand, the grey tunic and leather pants were new. The black arm warmers were also new and looked suspiciously like those around Jackson’s arms.

“There are more of you?” Astrid gapped, turning back around to face the twins.

“Yeah, there’s Gruffnut-” Tuffnut stood as much as the bench would allow and looked around before gesturing his spoon at a muscular blue eyed blond man drinking a pitcher of mead while the group of men surrounding him cheered the Thorston on.

“-Muffnut-“ Ruffnut motioned to a tall, angular Viking man bending another man over his shoulders; again, with blue-eyes and blond hair. Fishlegs whimpered when a crack was heard from the man’s back even from this distance.

“-Scruffnut-“ dreadlock slapped the heavyset Viking in the face as their own turned sudden around and waved at a crop wheat blonde haired, blue eyed woman arm wrestling a stocky dark haired Viking. She was winning. Hiccup saw the brunet look back and forth between the man and Snotlout and couldn’t blame Jackson, the family resemblance between father and son was uncanny.

“-Huffnut-“ another wheat blonde woman with her hair pulled back in a long braid, had a Viking held up by the scruff of his tunic, feet dangling off the ground. Her opposing arm was drawn back while her hand tightening into a solid fist. The chief’s son had seen the woman before at his father’s council meetings and he couldn’t place who she was at the moment but he had assumed she was a Hofferson, not a Thorston. She had the same surly demeanor Astrid had.

“-and Norbert,” Tuffnut finished, sitting back down and gesturing to the dark short hair, dark eyes, and noticeable scraggier man ladling gruel into bowls next to Mrs. Larson.

“Can I blame him for this meal?” Jackson asked prodding his gruel and picking up a spoonful before turning it over. The gruel clung to the spoon.

“Norbert?” Astrid asked at the same time

“Yeah,” Ruffnut whispered loudly, her blue eyes darted back and forth before leaning over the table to whisper – rather loudly – to the shieldmaiden, “but he’s adopted. Just don’t tell him.”

“They’re the youngest,” the brunet offered offhand, waving his spoon around erratically, trying to get the food to come off. It didn’t budge.

“How do you know that?” Astrid asked eying Jackson and Hiccup knew what she was thinking; he was thinking the same. How could a foreigner know more about the twins’ siblings when they didn’t know the other Thorstons existed? They had known them longer and yet they hadn’t known the Thorstons twins had more siblings.

“They come with Snuffnut to listen to my stories and I talk with them,” Jackson shrugged as amber eyes remained fixed upon his food. “The real question is how can you eat this stuff?”

“Easy, you just put it in your mouth and swallow,” Tuffnut answered happily demonstrating by taking a giant bite out of the bowl-shaped gruel clinging to his spoon.

“You’re stories? Are you telling you’re the one responsible for all those wooden bowls being left outside?” Snotlout scrutinized the brunet, leaning on the table to get a better view of the teenager at the other end of the table.

Jackson put the spoon in his mouth, making a face as he gulped down the food before pushing his bowl away. “Well, in a way, I guess. I did tell the kids a couple of stories about the Wyldfae and how it became a tradition for the Wee Folk and various other fae to trade for things placed in a Rowan bowl. I didn’t think they would run home and make their own offerings bowls.”

“Huh, that’s why all the kids were asking for Rowan wood. Dad was wondering why the wood had become so popular lately. Guess I can tell him,” Hiccup pondered out loud, pushing the teenager’s bowl back in front of him while making a show out of eating his own gruel. It was no wonder the younger boy was a hiccup; he hardly ate anything. Rolling his eyes, Jackson picked up his discarded spoon and ate another bite.

“We made one too,” Ruffnut proclaimed thrusting out her chest and giving a satisfied smile.

“Yeah, and we put the flowers from the Hamadryad and Puffnut’s wooden eye in them last night and this morning there these shiny stones in it!” the Viking with the dreadlocks continued, rooting around in his clothing and producing a few little yellow stones from the inside pocket of his vest.

Setting down his spoon and picking up one of the little nugget to inspect it, the blacksmith’s apprentice rolled it around his fingers and held it up to the light. “Uh, Tuffnut, this is gold. Really, high end gold.”

“I know, it’s great! Now me and Ruffnut have enough to buy Puffnut a new eye,” Tuffnut preened taking the gold back and tucking the rocks back into his clothing and not a moment too soon to avoided being swiped by Snotlout’s greedy hands. The heavily built Viking dropped back on to his ass when he missed his chance.

“I’m afraid to ask, but why didn’t you just give her the eye you put in the bowl?” Astrid inquired as she polished off her meal.

Blue eyes shifted and Ruffnut scratched her chin with her finger. “Because, she would have known we stole it then.”

“Not to mention, we kind of broke it,” Tuffnut admitted taking another bite out of his bowl-shape gruel on a spoon.

“I want gold,” Snotlout grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. There was a moment pause in which Hiccup could just see a feeble thought worming its way into the dark haired Viking’s brain and he could already feel the headache forming when Snotlout turned his focus on Jackson. “How do I make one of these bowl thingies?”

“It won’t work how you want it too, you probably won’t get gold,” the teenager muttered, propping his head on his knuckles and stirring the gruel with the spoon in his other hand, “the Wee Folk and Dewdrop Faerie give up what they think is equal value for what is given up and even then, it depends on what they have. Tuffnut and Ruffnut just got lucky.”

“How do you know all this stuff?” Fishlegs rejoined the conversation.

“I’m a Druid,” Jackson replied tapping his spoon against the bowl but didn’t bother eating anymore. “I may have not lived in a tradition Druid settlement, but my mother made sure me and my sister had the fundamental knowledge of the Old Religion and Druid customs drilled into our skulls since we could walk.”

“What’s the Old Religion?” the heavyset Viking leaned further over the table to get a better view of the burnet. Always eager to learn, he pulled out a bound booklet from inside his tunic and opened it up a blank page with a charcoal pencil folded inside. Picking up the pencil, Fishlegs turned his attention to the younger boy, readily awaiting Jackson’s answer.

“Now that’s kind of a difficult question to answer,” the foreigner spoke slowly, deliberating on how to answer the question. “Old Religion is the Magic of Earth itself. The best way to answer that is to dive into the philosophy of the Old Religion; the basis of which boils down to balance. Balance is sacred. There is the balance between fire and water, earth and air and together they make up the major elements which keep the Balance of Nature from being thrown into utter chaos. However, at the heart of the Old Religion is the most hallowed of balances: the balance between life and death itself.

“Interesting,” Fishlegs murmured busy scribbling down everything as fast as he could. Once finished, he looked at Jackson again, tapping his pencil against his lips with a thoughtful expression on his face. “So do all Druids practice the Old Religion?”

“Some, not all, depends on the Druid clan. In the past, yeah, all Druids were considered followers of the Old Religion, however, not so much anymore. My mother taught me it was more important to keep the Balance of Nature than it was to listen to the High Priests and High Priestesses of the Old Religion – it was their grudge which fueled the Great Purge – that is the Old Religion I follow,” Jackson took one more bite of his food and set his spoon down for good.

“The Great Purge, I’ve never heard of that,” Astrid stated matter-of-factly, her interest being piqued.

“You wouldn’t, it happened where I was from, before I was born. The ruling king requested one of the High Priestess to help his wife bare him a son when he became aware his queen could not care a child. The High priestess agreed, but – as I said, the Old Religion is all about balance – so when she used magic to create the life of the future prince, magic had to take a life. It took the life of the queen. Enraged at what he thought was treachery; the king declared all magic was evil and those whom practiced magic were evil by extension.

“It didn’t matter if the practitioners had spent their whole life helping others and swore to never do harm. The king had anyone who was alleged to possess magic executed; many without a trial. Whole Druid clans were slaughtered with no warnings because the king believed all Druids practiced some type of magic.”

“Are you a practitioner of magic?” Ruffnut asked, picking up on the one thing which interested her. Magic, it was something which she could use to cause more mischief than she already did. “Can you teach me?”

“No, teach me,” Tuffnut pushed his sister to the side. “Gothi refuses to teach me. She just hits me with her staff.”

“Who’s Gothi?” Jackson was obviously amused by the twins and was working to keep his chuckles in check.

“She’s the Village Elder,” Hiccup informed the clueless brunet about the tribe’s members.

“She’s knows things,” Fishlegs insisted, turning his head to make sure nothing was going to happen to him after speaking out about the mystical Gothi.

The information had Jackson perking up and dropping his hands to the table. “Have you seen her perform any magic?”

“She can tell when you are going to by looking at your fingernails,” Snotlout provided, fingers curling into his palms.

“Gobber says it’s actually your tongue,” Fishlegs corrected covering his mouth with his hand.

“She can tell the weather,” Astrid spoke over the heavyset Viking.

“But, you’ve never seen her command the element? Do something inexplicable? Other than mysteriously knowing things?” the brunet probed, eying each of the table occupants for more information. The Dragon Riders in turned stared at each other, trying to think of something, but ended up shaking their heads negatively one after the other.  

“Not that I know of,” the shieldmaiden spoke for all of the Academy members.

“She sounds like a shaman,” Jackson said, at the blank stares he was receiving, he deadpanned. “Think of magic like a flame. Someone who has a small candle-size flame of magic has enough magic to connect with the Balance of Nature. They can feel when the elements have tipped in one direction or another. Certain shamans have a large enough candle-size flame to have a kind of magical skill, like healing or potion making. Just enough their natural talents are enhances to make a patient heal faster or cause a potion to be more potent. Or they can do small spells, but nothing on a large scale.

“Then there are sorcerers, who have a flame of magic, some small like a heath fire while there are others whose magic is a bonfire. Sorcerers can manipulate the balance to suit their needs. Replicating winds and conjuring up flowers. The more powerful ones can call up storms and grow thousands of year old trees within mere seconds. Sorcerers can have a couple of magical skills or one very strong one.

“At the top are warlocks, or, I should say, warlock. There has only been one warlock in the history of the Old Religion, a child who was born with magic and has since become the living embodiment of magic. To him, magic flows through his veins and the elements bow to his whims. He is the Lord of Magic only because the Magic of Earth bestowed the title upon him, the most powerful magical human to ever walk this earth.”

A silence fell across the table, the only sound coming from the scratching of Fishlegs’s pencil against paper.

“So, you’ll teach us magic?” Tuffnut broke the peace.

“Sorry, but no, I’m Druid by blood, a low level practitioner at best,” the brunet sighed, Hiccup easily picking up the hints of depression in the silvery tones. He had heard them in his own voice for so many years, it was hard not to notice when the same tone was in someone else’s voice. “Practitioners are the lowest of those magically inclined. Our magic is like a spark, it’s there but not going to do much good. We can feel the Balance of Nature, but not constantly. Only when something big is about to happen and even then, we might not feel the shift.

“Actually, back where I am from, there are not many sorcerers left because of the Great Purge, I only know of a small amount who survived and only a rare few new sorcerers have been born since. No one knows why; though, I’ve a suspicion. I think the king not only destroyed the Balance of Nature by killing sorcerers but he also drove countless Creatures of Magic – creatures who were born of magic and part of the Old Religion – out of his land which kept the balance from being able to mend itself. In particular, he tried eradicated an entire species of Creatures of Magic. I grew up believing he succeeded. Well, there were two exceptions, but that’s not important because I was proven wrong.”

“What creatures did you think he killed off?” Snotlout probed for more information, fully engrossed in the story.

“Dragons,” Jackson whispered, reaching his hand tentatively out to Toothless, who’s ear-plates had fallen at his words and then butted his head against the brunet’s hand in reassurance he was there. “I never thought I’d live to see one and now, I’m surrounded by them.”'

* * *

“I didn’t mean to do that,” Astrid said as she and Hiccup walked down Great Hall’s steps and headed to the Hofferson’s hut. Stormfly soaring in the night sky above them while Toothless lagged behind his rider. Every once in a while, the Night Fury would warbled up at the Deadly Nadder who would chirp back but otherwise ignore the black dragon to freely fly in the sky.

The other Academy members had already headed home for the night on their dragons. Hiccup had been a little worried about allowing the brunet to go off alone after everything which had happened to him. However, Snuffnut was quick to come to the teenager’s side when he noticed the brunet leaving and the boy had pleaded with his parents to walk with Jackson. The auburn hair teenager had last seen the two heading towards Gobber’s hut with the boy’s parents shadowing a few feet behind them.

“Do what?” Hiccup asked confused by the sudden change of topic. They were just talking about Jackson and how well he appeared to be doing when Astrid had suddenly let out a heavy followed by the off-kilter comment.

Shifting the torch they were using for light from one hand to the other, the chief’s son was having a hard time following the sudden change in topic. Then again, he wasn’t at his best since finding Jackson unconscious floating on a slab of ice with Toothless after a chunk of the glacier had broken off a day ago. He hadn’t been sleeping all that well, plagued by nightmares of the foreigner having drowned at sea.

It had only been luck that Toothless and Jackson had been found at all. When the glacier had collapsed, it produced a four-foot wave which had nearly overturned one of the fishermen’s longboats. The wave also washed the icy slab with the lost duo towards the longboats for them to be found. Yet, in Hiccup’s nightmares, he saw the brunet drowning in the icy waters which had kept him awake throughout the night.

Astrid brought him out of his thoughts by giving him one of her many evil-eyes and ended up shaking her head, blue eyes rolling. “You really weren’t paying that much attention, were you?”

“What are you talking about?” the teenage boy scratched his head. What was he supposed to pay attention to? He always paid attention to Astrid. Well, not always, but the majority of the time when there weren’t dragon related problems or a new design he was working on at the forge then the Hofferson had his attention.

“You need to pay more attention to the rumors,” the blonde shieldmaiden spoke to him as if she was dealing with the twins – which would have been insulting if he wasn’t currently wearing a blank look – and made an indecipherable gestured towards village. “Hiccup, Jackson family is dead.”

“What?” Hiccup croaked coming to a complete stop at the base of the steps and turned to face the Deadly Nadder Dragon Rider who seemed to know more about this than the chief’s son did.

Astrid stopped, hands placed on her hips with one delicate eyebrow raised into her hairline. “Seriously, why else would a twelve summer old move in with Gobber?”

“Fourteen,” the teenager absentmindedly corrected, his mind preoccupied with trying to reach the same conclusions the shieldmaiden had already come to. He seemed to be missing a few pieces of the puzzle thought.

“Come again?”

“He’s a hiccup, he’s fourteen winters old.”

“What, really? Never mind, that’s not important,” it was Astrid’s turn to be caught off guard yet she waved off the emotion like it never occurred to her. “Hiccup, his family is dead and from what he just said, the king of his land was executing the Druids. He’s a Druid and his family is dead.”

As the blonde spoke, Jackson’s words from earlier that evening drifted through the auburn haired Dragon Rider’s mind.

_“Jackson Overland, fourteen winters old, relocated descendant of the Druid Clan Taliesin, the last member.”_

“Relocated…his family was on the run from the king,” Hiccup finally caught on to what Astrid was saying.

“And they are all dead now,” the shieldmaiden nodded her confirmation, “and we brought up those memories.”

“Shit, now I feel like crap,” the teenager cursed as his shoulders dropped, head hanging low in shame.

“Yeah, well, we all should feel that way.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Tuffnut and Ruffnut's siblings, they're the OCs I was talking about, what do you think?


	11. The Night Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah! I'm so happy you guys like my OCs. Although, the 'Nut Siblings won't be back for a few chapters, but they will make a reappearance at some point or another. 
> 
> As for this chapter, I am a little wishy-washy about it. I like it to the point that it's a necessary chapter to lead up to the next chapter. Yet, no matter how many times I edited it and reread it, the chapter never came out sounding how I wanted it to. I wanted to work on it more, but if I attempting to reach what I consider passable, then I would have been late on updating and I have a feeling I might be lynched if that would have happened. So, I hope you in enjoy, because this chapter was a pain in the ass.

“Do you have anything I could make a strap for my shield with?” Hiccup called out into the seemingly empty smithy. However, with Grump currently sleeping outside the stall, he suspected Gobber was somewhere nearby and he knew Jackson was hidden somewhere within the disarray of the stall. They had agreed to meet at the forge after his duties to the Academy were done with for the day.

Jackson’s head popped up from behind the workbench he had claimed for his own and looked around. When he spotted the Dragon Rider, a grin spread across his face before he pulled himself to his feet and dusted off his legs. Hiccup watched the younger teen with a fond smile across his face. Since they had begun working together at the forge, the auburn haired Viking had found out the Druid liked working on the floor more than the actual workbenches which should have him covered in dirty and grime. Yet, somehow, he always managed to stay relatively clean.

Today was no different. The new sleeveless white shirt – the one which had been gifted to him as a token of appreciation for saving the dark hair child from the cracking ice by the girl’s mother – was spotless. Not to mention, it looked very good on him. Though, the blacksmith’s apprentice wondered if Jackson knew there was a smudge of soot under his left eye.

“Depends, do you want fur or leather?” the teenager asked ducking back down behind the workbench. Hiccup heard some rummaging and clattering as the brunet continued on with whatever he was doing.

“Whatever’s available,” the auburn hair teen waved wincing when there was a loud thump followed by a yelp.

“Well, I have a scrap of leather around here somewhere, I used the last of the fur in the shop,” Jackson muffled voice echoed slightly as if he was speaking through a metal object. A few scraps of leather and fabric pieces were thrown up and on top of the workbench, covering the litter of metal bits already occupying the tabletop. Some of it, Hiccup knew was his mess, but he also knew some of it was Jackson’s as well. Finding what he was looking for, a pleased sound emanated from the brunet as he held up a piece of leather and stood up. “It’s deerskin.”

Hiccup took the slice of leather and rubbed his fingers over the skin. “This’ll do.”

“Mmkay, so hey, since Snotlout has taken to wearing my pelt he stole from me,” the Druid began while putting the scraps he had thrown about back under the table.

“I could get it back for you,” the chief’s son quickly offered pausing in his own search for a sharp object to cut the leather. He couldn’t find a regular blade, but he did find one of Gobber’s prosthetic arm attachments with a knife at the end which was what he ended up using.

“Naw, that’s fine, it suits him better than me. Besides, that’ll mean all the work on my new cloak will go to waste,” Jackson held up a long blue mantled cloak for the Viking to see. The hood on the piece of clothing was unusual, but it was the white fur lining with which also decorated the edges that caught Hiccup’s attention. Such a color would not last long on Berk without becoming dull and stained in a matter of days, if not hours. “What do you think? I based it off of a cloak my mother gave me. Although, I had to add the extra fur for warmth and the hood is in reminisce of my hoodie. I stayed up late to finish it for today’s trip to the other side of the island. Hopefully we’ll be able to find the plants I need to make more dyes. I used up my last bit of blue dye while making it.”

“About that,” Hiccup laughs nervously discarding the scraps he had cut from the leather.

“What about it?” the teenager asked lowering the cloak and giving his full attention to the Dragon Rider.

Amber eyes seemed to pierce through him and the Viking ducked his head using the excuse he was searching for a needle to avoid looking into those eyes. “See, Astrid has decided we’re going to Dragon Island for some training tonight.”

“So what does this training entitle?” Jackson inquired slightly tilting his head to the side.

It was not the reaction he had been expecting from the brunet. “Uh… well, we’re supposed to make it across the island, at night, without our dragons or any camping gear. It’s supposed to improve our stealth skills and our Wild Dragon Defense, or so Astrid says.”

“Uh-huh and what’s the island like?” the Druid nodded, plucking a needle out from the clutter and stringing a piece of thread through the eye.

“It’s full of dragons.” Hiccup took the offered needle and began sewing the stripe of leather to prevent the ends from fraying in the future.

“Duh, with the name _Dragon_ Island, I would hope so,” Jackson rolled his eyes and seated himself on top of the table across from the Viking. “I mean, what else is on the island? What kinds of plants grow there? Are there any mineral deposits? Other than dragons, what’s the wildlife like? Things like that.”

It took a moment to dawn on Hiccup what was being asking. He would latter blame the fact his concentration was on keeping the folded leather from coming undone as he sewed which was why he didn’t immediately full comprehend the ramifications. When the questions finally did register, the Dragon Rider jerked up and stared at the smiling brunet.

“Oh no, no way; you are not going with us to Dragon Island. It’s too dangerous. You know next to nothing about dragons,” the Dragon Rider put down his needle and thread, shaking his head.

“I know what you’ve been teaching me,” the Druid interjected, taking the leather from Hiccup and continuing where the other teenager had left off. “And I’ve met the others’ dragons.”

“That’s different! They aren’t wild dragons,” Hiccup began pacing back and forth, ranting and raving. Every once in a while, Jackson would make a noise of acknowledgement or hummed. It was perfectly clear he wasn’t listening to a word the chief’s son was saying.

Tying the end of the thread, the brunet held up the finished strap for inspection. The spacing of the stitches was somewhat consistent and the overall quality of the leather was good, if a little dry. A tug at both ends of the belt didn’t result in any of the stitches popping; all in all, the strap was well made for a rush job. Satisfied with the work, Jackson interrupted the ranting teenager.

“So, what are you going to do with the dragons while you trek across the island? Leave them by themselves to get into trouble? Or better yet, to follow you guys around? _But wait_ , wouldn’t that defeat the whole purpose of your training drill? You’ll need someone to look after the dragons and it wouldn’t be fair to one of the others if they had to be left out, _now would it_?” the brunet feigned uncertainty by changing the pitch of his voice as he offered up the strap to the frowning Dragon Rider. “I can watch the dragons while you do whatever you need to do and they can look after me.”

“You’re not going and that’s final.”

* * *

“I can’t believe you’re coming,” Hiccup groaned as he flew to Dragon Island with Jack riding behind him on Toothless.

“Don’t be like that Hiccup,” the immortal teenager said from behind the Viking, his left arm around the other teen’s waist shifting slightly when he leaned to the side to see the small island becoming bigger. However, he didn’t dare lean too far, since his right hand was occupied with holding his staff up steady to keep the numerous copper lanterns from falling off the crook. “You need to be more adventurous. Have some fun.”

“Oh I am, I’m gonna be traveling across an island full of dragons without anything but a shield. Loads of fun,” the auburn hair teenager grumbled sarcastically.

“Not what I meant. All work and no play makes Hiccup a dull boy, right Toothless?” the Guardian of Fun laughed. His laughter increasing when the black dragon let out a croon in what he thought was agreement.

“Traitor,” Hiccup grunted shaking his head yet, there was slight smile on his face.

“ _Hey_ ,” Jack exclaimed leaning to the right which threw them off balance. The Dragon Rider swiftly switched gears to compensate for the motion, correcting their stability and keeping the brunet from falling off Toothless.

“Well, he is.”

“Not that. I thought I saw something,” the ex-spirit gazed down at the rock stacks extended out of the ocean below.

Hiccup gave a quick glance down as well, but didn’t see anything in the dim light. “It was probably nothing.”

Jack wasn’t so sure, but let it drop as the group of dragons descended on to the island below.   Toothless landed in the bay with precision one could only find in a Night Fury and the two riders dismounted. Once on the ground, Hiccup unhooked his shield from the Toothless’s saddle and slid it on his right arm. The brunet then handed him one of the many lanterns balanced on his staff and the Head of the Academy nodded his thanks before turning his attention to the other Vikings.

“Ok, one of us is gonna have to skip the drill and take the dragons to the cave on the other side of the island. That way, they won’t try and help us,” Hiccup addressed the gathered Academy members as the immortal teenager went around handed everyone a lantern of their own. Just as Jack handed Fishlegs his lantern, a shriek had him turning around to see a purplish-blue Deadly Nadder flying over the bay and touching down, ready to attack the closest human threat.

Before the wild dragon could even get a blast off, Toothless and Stormfly jumped into action as their riders were the two closest to the wild Deadly Nadder. Together, the dragons discharged blasts of fire. Both took on vastly different shapes and colors; Jack was familiar with the bluish-white blasts belonging to Toothless. The stream of dark orange and yellow flames coming from Stormfly was definitely new to him. Yet, when he thought about it, the ex-spirit knew Grump spewed lava, so figuring out each species of dragon had their own flame wasn’t that big of a deal, although it was still interesting.

Toothless and Stormfly were able pushed the wild dragon back. A shriek from the wild Deadly Nadder was all the dragon could get off before beating a strategic retreat into the sky.

“Just like that,” Hiccup said impassively and sighed, shaking his head. “Ok, so the dragons are going to be staying with-”

Fishlegs stepped forward and waved a hand at himself, cutting off the chief’s son. “I think the obvious choice is-”

“Me! I volunteer,” Tuffnut ran in front of the heavyset Viking and put himself in the limelight. Jack thought about heading off the ensuing argument. Then his mischievous side kicked in and he didn’t bother to say anything, choosing to watch how Hiccup would handle things instead.

“But I have way more dragon knowledge,” Fishlegs protested, inadvertently waving his lantern around trying to confront the Viking with dreadlocks.

“Yeah, from a book,” Tuffnut deadpanned looking at the teenager beside him out of the corner of his eyes, an unimpressed look on his face. “But I… I feel them, in here-” he placed his hand over his heart “-wait, where is it? In-” the Thorston moved his hand downwards to rest upon his stomach which gave out a gurgle “-in here. Yeah, in my stomach. Besides, I did say, ‘ _Me first!_ ’”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but, uh, Tuffnut is right,” Hiccup shook his head slowly, clearly not believing the words were coming out of his mouth. The Guardian could understand the shorter teenager’s disbelief. He knew the twins weren’t the sharpest axes in the armory, but he also knew they were dedicated and loyal to Hiccup. Not that the auburn hair Dragon Rider realized their devotions to him and Jack wasn’t about to point it out anytime soon. It wasn’t his place. “Fishlegs, no one can argue with your dragon knowledge. But if Alvin attacks with wild dragons, we need to be able to face them any time of the day or night, on our own, without help.”

“I hate it when you make sense,” the larger teenager conceded, his shoulder slumping while lips pointed downwards and blue eyes began to water. Fishlegs tried to hide his reaction by blinking a few times to rid himself of the building tears which seemed to work since no one else appeared to notice save for Jack. Then again, it could have been a normal occurrence and the others were being polite enough to not say anything for all for all the ex-spirit knew.

Tuffnut gave a triumphant grinned, elbowing into the heavyset Viking’s stomach with his bony arm and chuckling in glee at his perceived triumph. Sadly, his victory was not to last.

“However, as I was saying _before_ _I was interrupted_ : Jackson has come along to watch our dragons while _all of us_ can participate in the drill,” Hiccup stressed eying the Thorston who had become motionless, mouthing hanging ajar.

“What?!” Tuffnut cried out after a few false starts of opening and closing his mouth with no words coming out. “But –but…I said ‘ _Me first_!’”

“Technically, I volunteered first, I volunteered on Berk, so I said ‘Me first’ _first_ ,” the Guardian of Fun delightedly corrected Tuffnut, holding his staff with both hands and leaning against it without dislodging the copper lantern off the staff from where it was balanced.

“That’s not fair, I call cheat!” the Viking wailed. He fell silent when Ruffnut slapped the back of his head causing his helmet to fall into his eyes.

“Nope, I think it’s fair,” Astrid remarked, rubbing her Deadly Nadder’s nose. Stormfly let out a gurgle and bumped her nose against her rider’s shoulder. “Be good for Jackson, okay? See you later, Stormfly.”

Snotlout slung an arm around one of Hookfang’s horns and roughly patted the dragon. “You stay tough.”

“Bye, Meatlug,” Fishlegs forlornly babbled, hugging the Gronckle without a care of the twins snickering at his show of affection. “I know you’re really gonna miss me. I’m gonna miss you, too.”

“Keep Jackson safe,” Hiccup whispered to the Night Fury, scratching beneath his chin. Toothless let out a gurgle of pleasure as a particular spot was scratched and nodded his head in understanding. “Thanks Bud, I really don’t think Jackson knows what he is getting himself into.”

“Don’t worry guys, I’ll keep your dragons safe,” Jack said trying to hide his mirth. Hiccup definitely didn’t mean for the ex-spirit to hear him, but the winds were on his side and he heard every word from where he stood next Snotlout.

He had more experience than the chief’s son realized, even if he was now bound by a mortal body. Jack had the knowledge he had gained as an immortal plus the newly awakening memories of the Old Religions and his life before were proving to be invaluably useful. He could definitely look after himself.

“Thanks,” Astrid acknowledged as she passed the brunet by on her way out of the bay and inland. Stormfly followed her all the way to where the Guardian stood before being stopped by a staff blocking her path.

“Just keep yourselves safe,” Jack grinned as the Deadly Nadder let out a pathetic chirp as her rider disappeared from sight.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll keep everyone safe,” Snotlout boasted trailing after Astrid. His massive dragon scuttling after him and he too was kept from following after his rider.

“Remember, this is about stealth, not speed. It doesn’t matter how fast you get there. What’s important is how you handle a wild dragon if ever you come across one. Understand? All right. Good luck, everybody. I’ll see you back at the cave,” Hiccup instructed standing across from the immortal teenager waiting for a still grumbling Tuffnut to head on out. It took his sister having to shove him onwards every few steps to get him to leave the bay which only had Hiccup shaking his head.

Barf and Belch nudged their respective riders forward, saying their goodbyes before they too joined the rest of the dragons behind the gangly brunet. The Head of the Dragon Academy was satisfied with all dragons – even Meatlug had joined the others – staying behind with Jack and he appeared to have a handle on them. With one last goodbye to his friend, the auburn haired Dragon Rider made his own way out of the bay before stopping in his tracks and turning around to look pointedly at Fishlegs who hadn’t moved from where he stood on the beach, lantern held up rattling.

“This is great,” the heavyset Viking muttering, which had Jack and Hiccup sharing a look. The Guardian raised his eyebrow and Hiccup just shrugged with a strained smile. “What? I’m formulating a plan.”

“Fishlegs, you can do this,” the Head of the Dragon Training Academy encouraged his distraught student.

“Oh, man. I should have just stayed in my nice, warm bed this morning, Meatlug peacefully licking my toes. But no!” Fishlegs continued as if he hadn’t heard a thing his friend had said. He was too wound up and the Guardian of Childhood began to wondered if the blond Viking should be going into wild dragon infested territory with his current state of mind. Hiccup made the decision for him and since he knew Fishlegs better, Jack left him to determine if the boy was competent enough to go out or not.

“Move out, Fishlegs,” the chief’s son commanded.

“Don’t rush me. I’m having a moment,” the blond whined, glaring at Hiccup. The ex-spirit caught green eyes and motioned with his head inland, indicating he should leave the bay. With a sigh, the Dragon Rider nodded his head and headed out leaving Toothless behind at the burnet’s side. Once he was sure the other Dragon Riders were gone and Fishlegs was too busy panicking to notice him, Jack quietly whispered out a request.

The winds swirled around him before continuing onwards and picking up speed. When the winds reached the heavyset Viking, it gusted passed him and took the flame of his lantern with it. Almost immediately, Fishlegs bite back a scream, turning it into a whimper before rushing out of the clearing, calling after the other Dragon Riders.

“And why he didn’t just stay here and have one of you relight the lantern is the real question,” Jack commented catching Toothless’s acid green eyes. The dragon’s pupils went wide before cocking his head to the side. “Yeah, I don’t get it either.”

Shrugging his shoulders, the immortal teenager planted his staff in the ground and grabbed hold of the swinging lantern with both hands. Unlatching the small pin keeping the fogged panel close, the brunet opened the door and out flew four multicolor orbs of light. Of the lights, one was burnt orange, another light purple, a dark green, and the last a frosty blue which buzzed around the ex-spirit frantically.

“You guys are all right, I see,” Jack laughed as the frosty blue ball light flew right up to amber eyes. A delicate hand on her hip and one tiny figure pointed at him reproachfully. “Sorry Periwinkle, but the lantern was necessary, I wasn’t about to let you guys get lost over the ocean. Are the rest of you okay?”

The other three lights bobbed up and down before circling around Jack once more. Periwinkle wrinkled her nose but relented in her ire. Having watched the entire event unfold – and being the closest dragon – Toothless sniffed the air and moved closer to inspect the little frosty blue faerie. Turning his head this way and that, the Night Fury didn’t seem to know what to think of the tiny beings and the Dewdrop Faeries were very much afraid of the gigantic fire breathing dragons which were inspecting them.

All of the tiny creatures quickly darted away at startling speeds, hiding themselves in the folds of Jack’s clothing. “Hey now, it’s okay. These guys won’t hurt ya, will ya?”

The dragons’ gazes turn from Jack to the Night Fury who the Guardian was coming to realize was the leader of the mismatch pack, just like his rider. Toothless looked at the immortal teenager before shaking his head negatively.

“See, they aren’t going to hurt ya. Come on out, you don’t want to go back on our trade?” Jack cajoled which definitely got the faeries moving. However, it wasn’t much of a trade in the ex-spirit’s opinion. He had been glad to tell the children of Berk his stories and if they all started putting out Rowan bowls, that was their own choice. Despite it being the children’s decision, the Wyldfae didn’t seem to feel the same way and had resolved to repay him for all the work he did in forming partnerships agreements in Berk. In the end, he had relented and had asked for their assistance in tracking down supplies.

A moment ticked by before the faeries flew out of his clothing and buzzed in the air, yet they stayed suspiciously close to Jack. The little burnt orange glob of light was the first to gain enough courage to drift over to the closest dragon. Toothless looked at the tiny light and tried to appear nonthreatening as possible, allowing the faerie creep slowly closer and pat him once on the nose. When the others realized no harm came to their friend, they too drifted over to the dragons and curiously inspected them. Soon, four orbs of light were happily darting from dragon to dragon, little tinkering sounds coming from them.

“Alright, now that we’ve all met, and it pains me to say this, it’s time for the work that comes before the play,” Jack gathered the attention of both Wyldfae and dragons alike. Pulling his staff out of the ground and removing the lantern which Toothless lite without any prompting and received a grateful smile in return. “I know you all don’t want to be here and want to be with your riders to keep them safe, but that is not an option. They want to run this drill uninterrupted and you’re going to have to let them.”

There were a number of low growls and grumbles, yet Jack could not blame them. He was – had been? Will be? Gah! Time travel was confusing – a Guardian and it would be hard press for him to leave his charges in harm’s way when there was something he could do, especially if it was one of The Seven Brightest Lights. In view of the fact the drill was something they wanted to do on their own, the dragons would have to respect their choices.

“So, in order to keep you guys distracted, I thought maybe you’d like to do some hunting to let off some steam?” the teenager suggested bouncing on his heels.

The proposal had the fire-breathing creatures standing up straighter, eyes gleaming at the prospect of prey in their near future. Jack had figured the dragons might do that, they were predators by nature, Creatures of Magic, and hunting was in their blood. From what he had observed, the Vikings regularly feed their dragons, not giving them the chance to hunt and unknowingly disturbing the Creatures of Magic’s nature instinct which he would use to his advantage.

Jack took their undivided attention as a good sign. “Alright then, let’s get to work. Hookfang, Stormfly, how to do you feel about hunting down large game? Elk, deer, bears, things like that, sounds good?”

Aforementioned dragons twitched, barely able to keep themselves grounded. The Monstrous Nightmare puffed out his chest and flames started to flare up sporadically across his body. Stormfly, on the other hand, was doing a little less bolstering yet her spikes surrounding her head flared out displaying how ready she was to go.

“Great, just try to not damage the pelts too much. Periwinkle and Fawn-” the brunt orange orb darted up and rushed to Jack, flittering around his head “-are going to point you towards some game. Make the kills clean if possible, okay? And please look after Fawn,” the two dragons chirruped which the teenager took for an affirmation. “Periwinkle, Fawn, I want you two to direct them to the animals close to their time or sick, please. No unnecessary killing, alright?”

The orange orb bobbed up and down before streaking off into the night. Hookfang didn’t stay grounded for a second longer and flew after the twinkling speckle. Periwinkle and Stormfly had a little more class and stayed around long enough to give Jack a small bow from the faerie and a chirp from the dragon. Then they too took flight in the opposite as the first duo.

“Barf, Belch, you’re going with Silvermist-” the dark green glow flew around the Hideous Zippleback and hovered in between the two heads “-to collect some herbs and berries. I may not have eaten for a while but even I cannot stomach the bland, tasteless food they serve in Berk,” Jack scrunched up his nose and made a face at the very thought of what the Vikings’ considered eatable. The two headed dragon growled and the Guardian held up his lantern to stall any further grumblings. “I know it isn’t as glorious as hunting, but I’m really tired of eating the food. Gobber is already on my case to eat more and Hiccup has started too. Next time, I’ll send you guys out hunting, fair?”

Barf and Belch seemed to think it over and the ex-spirit thought they were about to protest when Toothless fired off a small plasma blast at the Hideous Zippleback’s font legs. Belch yipped and Barf yapped, nonetheless both nodded their heads affirmatively. Silvermist’s green glow then took to the skies with the reluctant dragon following behind and Jack suddenly had the image of the reluctant form of Tuffnut being pushed out of the cove. The dragons really did seem to take on some of their riders’ characteristics.

“Okay Vidia, you and Toothless – hey!” the immortal teenager was cutoff when the Night Fury’s tail slapped his leg and gave the brunet a meaningful look. It took him a moment, but then amber eyes widen in comprehension. “You’re going to be looking after me, as per Hiccup’s order. Well, that changes things. I guess, Vidia can work with Meatlug in gathering the ore I saw on the beach instead of you while me and you explore the island a little bit, if that is alright with you, _Mr. Night Fury_?”

Toothless circles around Jack and nudged him in the back, heading away from the bay. The purpled orb whirred in irritation, tiny arms crossed over his chest; Vidia wanting to be flying about and not stuck on the beach. One look from acid green eyes had the Dewdrop Faerie zipping away from the Night Fury, hiding in the crevasses of Meatlug’s ear-wings.

Shaking his head, Jack looked at Toothless with a quirked his eyebrow. “It’s been decided then, shall we be off?”

Toothless rumbled and headed inland. The Guardian shook his head and let himself be pushed.

* * *

Two large Gronckles, one dark brown and the second the color of the sandstone, were locked in a viscously battle. The dark brown dragon charged at the slightly smaller Gronckle who didn’t back down and in turned, rushed forward as well. The resulting damage of ramming their heads together had lava dripping out of the two dazed Boulder-class dragons.

For what reason they were fighting, Hiccup didn’t know. He really didn’t care either. He just needed to get through the clearing the two feuding dragons were using as a battlefield and he wasn’t about to get in the middle of them.

Looking around, the auburn haired teen spotted something shiny in the lantern’s light and cautiously creep closer to keep the Gronckles from noticing him. A smile spread across his face at what the light revealed. Hiccup picked up two of the rocks in his left hand and lobbed them in between the dueling dragons. The two Boulder-class dragons creased their fighting to race after the distractions.

“Quartz. You guys are so predictable,” Hiccup chuckled crossing the clearing with no problems.

The two dragons obviously had been fighting over the quartz to begin with. By removing the source of their contempt, they were forced to either continue fighting and lose their food or chase after the quartz. An easy remedy to a potentially dangerous situation; now, if only the rest of the drill turned out to be as simple, then he didn’t need to worry. His hopes were quickly dashed after the thought crossed his mind when the faint light of a campfire off in the valley below caught his attention.

“Are you… Campfire? Really? How is this stealthy?” his smile turning into a frown as he shook his head completely exasperated at the sheer audacity of Snotlout or the twin – because who else could it have been? – to disregard the purposed of the exercise.

Even if this was technically Astrid’s drill, Hiccup did not appreciate the half-assed attempts. The training exercises were important with the threat of Alvin and the Outcasts hanging over them. They had barely managed to survive some of the man’s last attempts to conquer Berk and most of it had been luck on the Dragon Riders’ behalves. He was not about to let any of the Academy members get away with treating the drill like it was another one of their games.

Hiccup’s trek down into the valley took a little time and was out of the way of their rendezvous point. At one point, the Dragon Rider had to pull his shield off his back and used it to block a few potshots from a flock of Terrible Terrors. After that little mishap, he decided it best to keep the shield out in preparation of future attacks. It also came in handy to keep the tree branches from slapping him in the face since there were no set trails to the campfire.

As the flickering of firelight strayed through the trees, Hiccup hollered for the most likely culprit. “Ok. Come on out. Show yourself, Snotlout, and I will go easy on you.”

However, as he got closer, an uneasy feeling filled his gut and his stomach drop when he entered the clearing. There wasn’t just a campfire but a whole campsite littered with weapons of all sorts protruding out of the ground. A large tent was setup near enough to the fire to keep it warm but not close enough to catch fire and discarded armor was piled by the tent flap. All of which pointed to a long term campsite that could not have been constructed by Academy members.

Jackson’s earlier glimpse of something below while they had flown over the ocean came to mind and Hiccup wished he hadn’t waved it off as nothing. He should have listened to the brunet and investigated. Obviously, there were more people on Dragon Island than just them. He needed to get out of there and warn the rest of the Dragon Riders. Not to mention, get Jackson and the dragons in order to leave the island as soon as possible.

Hiccup didn’t get the chance as something shot out of the trees and tackled him to the ground. Green eyes closed at the hard impact and he struggled to bring up his right arm with his shield to protect himself, yet it was pinned to the ground. Eyes snapped back open when no claws or talon ripped into his skin and grew wider when he saw that he hadn’t been attack by a wild animal or even a dragon as he initially believed but a person.

The man above him was noticeable taller and bulkier than the Dragon Rider. His hooked nose was mere inches away from Hiccup’s own and he found himself looking up into crazed green eyes with three blue-streaks of war-paint smeared across the man’s left eye. A large copper-gate Viking helmet rimmed with spikes and two crooked horns jutting out over a foot above the man’s head rested on a head full of long red hair braided down his back. Anything else of the man above him was observed by their close proximities.

“Dagur?” Hiccup squeaked out in a combination of lack of breath and surprise at seeing the face of Dagur the Deranged looming over him. The man had just as wide eyes as the auburn haired teenager but they soon changed to contain unhinged glee. Abruptly the Dragon Rider was yank up off the ground by his arms and held up into the air to be shaken vigorously.

Despite being treated like a ragdoll, Hiccup could see the man had changed little since he had left Berk after their staged dragon attack. Dagur still wore a sleeveless greyish-green tunic which was pretty much almost all the way covered by leather straps, spikes and protective covering. Metal armor covered his shoulders and knees which was clearly new while his left arm that covering up to his wrist with ragged grey wrappings had seen better days.

A leather cord crisscrossed around the man’s right arm matched the strap keeping a broadsword fastened to his back. The redhead also wore an overly large gold belt buckled engraved with a Skrill: the crest of the Berserker crest. The gold adornment along with the armor and weaponry were all subtle indications of Dagur’s stature as the Chief of the Berserker Tribe.

“Hiccup, old friend. You’re alive!” Dagur laughed manically, crushing the smaller teenager against his body and smashing their faces together. The only reason their lips didn’t meet – which made Hiccup shutter even thinking about it – was because auburn hair teenager hastily turned his head to the side.

“Uh, last time I checked,” Hiccup gulped feeling extremely uncomfortable and thanked the gods when the other Viking held him back up in the air. “So, um… haven’t seen you since-”

“-Since you saved me from that dragon attack back on Berk. You fought off a Night Fury,” Dagur declared, cutting off Hiccup and dropping him at the same time, all without any warning. The Viking from Berk landed none too gently on his feet, his metal prosthetic nearly slipping out from under him.

“Oh. Right… Yes, the _Dragon Attack_ ,” Hiccup laughed nervously, running his hand up and down the nape of his neck. His eyes darting to the side to keep from looking at the redhead, because of this, he failed to notice Dagur brandishing his broadsword from its sheath. He did however, see the light reflecting off of the blade and turn in time to duck out of the way of the Berserker chief’s haphazard sword swings.

“You were like, bam, wham! And then, you were all, ‘Dagur, save yourself!’ And, I was like, ‘What? Ok. I’m outta here’. But you stayed, and then you must’ve…,” the deranged man continued swinging the sword every which way. Unexpectedly, he stopped and whirled on his feet, swinging his sword to point at the smaller teenager’s throat. Hiccup didn’t have enough time to bring up his shield in defenses as Dagur went from gleefully happy to dead serious. “So what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” the Dragon Rider stammered slipping his shield off and held both hands up in front of his torso in the universal sign of surrender. Perspiration was forming on his brow as he desperately tried to think of a plausible explanation for being on Dragon Island.

“Don’t answer that. I know exactly what you’re doing here,” Dagur shouted all too sure of himself. Hiccup froze as the bead of sweat rolled down his face. He went as far as holding his breath.

“You do?” the auburn hair teenager’s voice hitched followed by his breathing speeding up. This was not good, not good at all.

If Dagur knew about Berk training dragons, there could very well be war on their hands. The Berserker chief was very enthusiastic about killing dragons when he had arrived to sign the peace treat a year ago instead of his father, the previous chief. As the Chief of Berk, Stoick had tried everything to talk him out of killing dragons. Yet when the twins’ dragon got captured, the Berk Dragon Training Academy’s members had to stage a fake dragon attack to keep the treaty in place. Now it was in trouble, again.

“Oh, yeah. I do. You’re here for the same reason I am, Hiccup. You’re here to hunt dragons,” Dagur stated twirling his sword by rotating his wrist. A moment later a burst of maniac laughter came from the taller Viking.

The Dragon Rider opened and closed his mouth a few times, not knowing what else to do in the situation. He settled on closing his mouth, lips thinning in a straight line and counted to ten to calm his ragged nerves. When Dagur turned on him again – giving him an appraising look – and Hiccup couldn’t stifle the exhale of breath which escaped him.  

“Ok, you got me. That’s what I am here for. All by myself,” Hiccup hastily assured the Viking. The lie was horrible and not very convincing, but Dagur was either very dense or too inattentive to notice. Whatever it was, it was a good thing in the Dragon Rider’s opinion. Now, he just needed to warn everyone else about Dagur; somehow.

“So whatever happened to that Night Fury, Hiccup?” the Berserker demanded replacing the broadsword back into its cover and taking step after step towards Hiccup. In turn, the Berk Viking took step after step backwards. However, the auburn hair teenager didn’t take too much care in looking where he was going and was pin against a large tree.

“Oh, yeah. Well, just bad news,” Hiccup’s hands working their way across the tree bark, trying to find out which was to go if he needed to make a quick escape. “It got away.”

The Berserker’s face went blank and he grabbed a hold of Hiccup by the arms once more – preventing him from using his partly thought out escape plan – lifting the small Viking up. “That’s great news!”

“It… It is?” the Dragon Rider stuttered his equilibrium shot at the quicksilver changes of Dagur’s emotions. Not to mention, the world around him was spinning and he felt slightly sick from the deranged Viking’s treatment. By Odin, Hiccup wished that he was bigger, then people couldn’t go around picking him up and shaking him like he was some kind of fishbone.

“Yes. New plan,” Dagur exclaimed excitedly, once again dropping auburn haired teenager. Thankfully, this time he landed on his feet without stumbling. Although, before he could even think about what to do with his feet firmly on the ground again, the redhead had thrown his arm around Hiccup’s shoulders and pulled him in close. He forcefully led the shorter teen over to the fire and pulled them down on their hands and knees. “You and I are going to hunt the Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death itself. We are going to take down that Night Fury once and for all.”

“Uh… Ok…” Hiccup found himself agreeing not knowing what else he could do, especially since Dagur – for some demented reason – began to howl at the moon like some mindless beast. It surely suited the Berserker but it had the Hiccup gulping down his trepidation when beady green eyes locked with his own.

“Come on. Howl with me. It feels good,” Dagur commanded and the Dragon Rider tried to figure a way around doing something so demeaning. When he couldn’t think of one, he did what any good Viking would do and sent a quick pray to the gods; specifically, Odin.

No less than a minute after the prayer was sent then the foliage on the opposite side of the fire started to ruffle and sway. Hiccup’s green eyes weren’t the only one to be drawn to the unnatural movement in the bushes across from them. Dagur wasted no time in scrambling to his feet, drawing his broadsword as Hiccup rolled to the side and grabbed his discarded shield.

“Odin be damned!” Hiccup knew that silvery voice mumbling expletives before switching in to a strange different language.

“By Odin, no,” Hiccup bemoaned the answer to his prayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muhaha, now you can all see why this chapter was so important and difficult. Introducing Dagur was hard despite using the show as an outline.


	12. The Hunt for the Night Fury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to reiterate, I am going to finish this story despite having 50 chapters. As I've mentioned before, I had 30 chapters outlined/written and I've been working on this since HTTYD2 came out but never posted until recently. However, now I have all 50 chapters outlined/written and the only thing I'm doing now is editing the chapters when I have time and polishing them off so everything makes sense. I shall not quiet on this story (it's already taken up two years of my life) but it does help to get me motivated by all your wonderful reviews. Just keep that in mind since I'm I blaming Hiccup (and Jack) for this chapter.

Hiccup wanted to take back his silent prayer. He would have done anything to take it back, but that didn’t stop Jackson from stumbling out of the foliage. The Druid was too busy shoving a branch out of his way to take notice he was no longer alone. His hands reached up to brush the leaves out of his hair before returning to rub up and down his arms, trying in vain to keep warm as neither his cloak nor his ever present staff was in sight.

“When I get my hands on-,” Jackson’s voice was no longer muffled but his words halted when a sword was pressed against his neck.

Hiccup hadn’t seen the Berserker move, his eyes having been focused on the brunet and he regretted it now. He could see the two through the campfire, amber eyes narrowing on the redhead and sizing him up. The Dragon Rider could only see Dagur’s back but he stiffened when the Viking leaned in towards the brunet and pressed his blade further into Jackson’s neck but didn’t draw blood, yet.

“What do we have here?” Dagur’s pleased voice drifted across the clearing. “An intruder in my camp and such an exotic looking thing, too; what every shall I do with you?”

“How about I-” the brunet started his voice abrasive with an edge to it and Hiccup knew – _he just knew_ – that if Jackson said anything more he had a good chance of being slayed where he stood.

“Jackson!”

Both figures turned their gazes at the auburn hair teenager, while as much as Jackson could move with a sword to his throat.

“Hiccup?” the Druid’s tone changed from its harsh pitch to gentle timbre when he noticed the other Viking walking around the fire towards him.

“You know this person?” Dagur asked looking between the two with a leery look in his eyes.

“Uh, yeah. He is… um… He’s not a Viking…er...He’s… He’s a Druid,” Hiccup struggled to come up with some kind of explanation.

Discreetly he adjusted the shield strapped on his right arm, preparing to use it if his reasoning didn’t hold up to Dagur’s standards. To save Jackson’s life, the Chief of Berk’s son was willing to break the treaty. He just hoped he didn’t have to.

“I thought you said you came alone?” the Berserker growled out, not bothering to look away from Jackson which unnerved the Dragon Rider even more.

“I did,” Hiccup insisted his mouth getting away from him searching for a solution before his mind could catch up. This was why he wound up regretting what he said even before he said it. “Unless you consider spoils of war as people?”

The auburn haired Viking had to ignore the way Jackson’s head snapped towards him with wide amber eyes. He didn’t dare look away from the crazed green eyes before him. Hopefully, the brunet wouldn’t hold this against Hiccup later. But for now, he was more worried about keeping the deranged Viking from killing Jackson.

“Spoils of war?” Dagur asked eagerly, finally lowering the broadsword much to the other Viking’s relief. “I didn’t realize Berk had been on any raids or gone pillaging lately.”

And as far as Hiccup knew, the Hairy Hooligan Tribe hadn’t gone on raids nor did they do any pillaging since Hamish the First. They had been too busy with dragon attacks and trying to raid the dragon’s nests to plunder. By now, the custom had fallen out of practice for the people of Berk. They were warriors through and through, but they weren’t about to raid and pillage without just cause. Thankfully, none of this Dagur knew.

“Uh, well, the Druid wasn’t a spoil of war for us, but a king who gave him to my father as a gift of good faith,” Hiccup expounded upon the lie. Green eyes shifted to scrutinize the Druid out of the corner of his eyes. He silently pleaded with his eyes for the brunet to play along and Jackson must have noticed something in his expression going by the minuscule nod of his head he gave Hiccup.

“Ah, that explains his exotic looks,” Dagur leered at the brunet, sheathing his sword and began circling the two. “He is definitely different, but he has a rather pitiable form. I guess that’s why your father gave him to you, since even you, my muscularly challenged friend could keep him subdued.”

“That is exactly it,” Hiccup laughed nervously. He could feel Jackson’s temper building and had to grab his wrist discretely to keep the brunet from lashing out. That – thankfully – was enough to keep the young teenager from mauling the Berserker.

“What do you want for him?”

“What?” If Hiccup wasn’t busy holding Jackson at bay, he would have fallen over.

“A trade Hiccup, a trade. As I said, he is exotic and would make a good pet. Surely you’d like something in trade?” the Berserker strolled calmly around the fire leaving behind an enraged brunet and an equal repulsed Dragon Rider.

“I uh…,” Hiccup was speechless. He could not believe Dagur’s blasé reaction at the treatment of other people like they were some kind of commodity he could trade for.

“He can’t,” Jackson finally spoke up. Auburn hair whipped around as green eyes landed on the ridged body next to him. Amber eyes were narrowed and Hiccup almost took a step back at the intensity in those eyes.

“Oh, and why is that?” Dagur rounded on him, the fire reflecting in his eyes which gave the Berserker an unsettling appearance. This time, the Dragon Rider did take a step back, but the Druid beside him stood unaffected.

“When I was gifted to Hiccup, the king bound me by magic to the son of the chief instead of himself at his request. I cannot go against Hiccup or leave his side for too long or I will perish,” the Druid’s silvery voice weaved his lie into the growing web of deception.

“Pity, I would have loved to play with you,” the deranged Viking complained dejectedly and sat down on the log close to the fire. It was only because Hiccup still had his left hand wrapped around Jackson’s wrist which allowed him to feel the shiver go up the younger teenager’s spin. “So, why’d you bring him with you then, Hiccup?”

“Well… as a Druid. He has some special abilities to help track down the Night Fury that got away,” the Dragon Rider struggled to come up with an explanation. However, he wasn’t sure it was as convincing as Jackson’s lie had been.

“Brilliant! Let us feast before we hunt,” Dagur proclaimed giddy about the prospect of being able to hunt down Toothless which had Jackson and Hiccup exchanging worried looks. The deranged Viking turned his attention towards a large chunk of meat which had been slowly roasting over the fire. Pulling a dagger out from where it been stuck into the ground, Dagur stabbed at the meat a few more times than necessary to check if it was cooked or not.

Satisfied they would not be overheard, Jackson rounded on the Dragon Rider with a sharp low hiss. “Start talkin.”

“Dagur the Deranged is the Chief of the Berserker Tribe. We are tentative allies; however – as his name implies – he is rather deranged and has the mindset of kill first and ask questions later. He would have killed you for entering his camp if I hadn’t stepped in,” Hiccup whispered vibrant green eyes keeping track of the Berserker on the other side of the fire, who was currently licking the dagger’s blade. “Apparently, we’re going to be hunting dragons. Where are the dragons?”

“You’re lovely Night Fury decided to takeoff with my staff and cloak when I set them down to collect what I thought was a jewel out of a small river. The rest of the dragons were hunting and I had to leave them there to chase after Toothless,” Jackson shivered at the mention of his cloak. Hands once again running up and down his arms at the lack of covering, the sleeveless white shirt he wore provided him little protecting against the elements. “Now continue explaining.”

“Long story, I’ll explain it to you later,” Hiccup waved the Druid off. They didn’t have time to for storytelling and the tale deserved a complete accurate recounting.

“You better,” Jackson growled amber eyes flashing. “You _so_ owe me for this.”

“You did want to come along,” the Viking reminded him.

* * *

“Hiccup, ever since I left Berk, I haven’t been able to stop think about you,” Dagur started talking, sitting on the log with a little distance between himself and Hiccup. Jack, on the other hand, sat on the ground next to his ‘Master’s’ feet. Although, he was sort of glad since he was closer to the fire. He was practically frozen without his cloak.

He wasn’t quite honest when he told Hiccup Toothless had run off with his staff and cloak while he went to retrieve a jewel within a river. Jack just didn’t think the chief’s son would believe him if he told the smaller teen Mr. Vadderung had shown up and requested to hold onto his staff and cloak for the evening. One did not simply say no to a god and so, the ex-spirit had handed over the objects with a little trepidation on giving up his staff.

His fear quickly morphed into annoyance when the man proceeded to tell the Night Fury his rider was in trouble. The ever loyal dragon bounding off in search of Hiccup. Even if Mr. Vadderung was answering someone’s prayer – or so he claimed – Jack would get his revenge.

Pink hair. That is exactly what he would do, he would dye Mr. Vadderung’s hair pink.

“Well, that’s kind of strange. Well, I’m flattered,” Hiccup stammered pulling the brunet out of his plans of revenge.

“Not you, personally. You and that Night Fury. It’s like… you knew that dragon. You were inside its head, rattling its cage,” Dagur waved his hand about and drew his broadsword for the fourth time since Jack had arrived and waved it around. “And that, my muscularly challenged friend-” he put the blade back in the sheath which he was probably going to pull out again in another few seconds “-that’s when I decided I needed to know about dragons, too. So I came here, and I learned about them one by one.

“The Deadly Nadder-” here, the deranged Viking – who could give Pitch Black a run for his money as the Guardian was finding out – pulled out a red and blue spike from a pile of swords “-got this in the leg. It was awe~some! The Monstrous Nightmare. Look at it. Not so monstrous now, are you?”

Dagur chucked the spike behind him and surged forward, almost stepping on Jack in the process to point out his next trophy. Amber eyes followed the direction of the finger and found a spear dug into the ground like a pike with a skull on the end. Disgusted welled up inside of the Guardian of Fun and he had to bite back the urge to punch the revolting Viking straight in the face. The inhuman redhead was killing Creatures of Magic, he was killing dragons. He was just like Uther Pendragon.

The only thing which kept him grounded was the revolted look Hiccup shared with him. The Dragon Rider was gritting his teeth to prevent himself from saying anything and Jack found himself doing the same. After the brief explanation Hiccup provided, the ex-spirit knew he couldn’t speak up, not if he wanted Berk and the Berserker Tribe to stay allies. Jack wasn’t about to be the reason they would go to war, but he still wished to put the psycho in his place.

“And don’t even get me started on the Gronckle,” Dagur continued picking up a giant slab of meat. The implication had Jack gagging on reflex and a hand came up to cover his mouth. He was thankful the Viking hadn’t given him any food when he had handed Hiccup some or else it would have been all over the ground. It was one thing to eat the meat of animals; it was something totally different to eat the meat of magical creatures. It was taboo.

“Uh… Is… Is that…,” Hiccup looked a little green in the face, one hand bracing against the Guardian’s shoulder while the other snaked around his stomach. He had eaten the meat when it was forced upon him.

“No, it’s yak,” Dagur paused and examined the meat he was currently eating as if he was contemplating on actually eating a dragon. “Anyway, those big boys are quicker than you’d think.”

A distant roar had Dagur jumping to his feet with a grunting, discarding the food and picking up a weapon from the pile of weapons. In this instance, it happened to be a crossbow. The deranged Viking’s head was turning every which way trying to tuned in to the location of the dragon off in the distance. A dragon which could very well be Toothless. Not that Jack cared at the moment; no he was more worried about his mutinying stomach.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” the immortal teenager wheezed quietly.

“I know, just hold on out and we’ll get out of here as soon as possible,” came a reassuring whispered accompanied by a light squeeze to his shoulder before Hiccup spoke up louder in an attempt to distract Dagur. “Whoa! Nice crossbow.”

“My hunting weapon of choice. You carry…” the Berserker gazed down at the shield resting next to Jack. “Hmm. Just a shield?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just… just a shield. Just a plain, old shield.” If he didn’t think it might cause his stomach to come up through his mouth, the Guardian would have snorted at Hiccup comment. A plain, old shield his butt. Even now, the chief’s son patted the shield fondly as one inventor would do for any of their successful inventions.

“Very ornate,” Dagur smugly prodded with a sneer on his face. “My sister had one like that. I myself have never felt the need to hide in combat.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup gritted out, working to ignore the maniacal howling the deranged Viking had started up once more. Jack couldn’t blame him. The man sounded like one of Pitch’s dying Nightmares, all unearthly and ghastly. “So just how long have you been out here, Dagur?”

“Couple of days. Weeks, maybe, hard to tell. It’s all a blur when you’re on the hunt. Gotta focus,” the question was waved off as he brought the crossbow back up to his eye and sweeping the area, jumping in circles and expecting a dragon to charge into camp with no other warning.

“Weeks? That explain a lot,” Jack snorted eying the unhinged Viking. In all of his three hundred years of being alone and unseen, he had never reached Dagur’s level of madness which was saying something about the redhead.  

“Eyes front, little man!” Dagur howled throwing the crossbow to the ground and lunging forward to grab ahold of Hiccup’s face with both hands.

Jack had his own problems to deal with when the weapon landed not a foot away from him still loaded. He jerked back when the bolt shot out and pierced the log dangerously close to his arm. His heartrate stalling before surging in his chest at how close he came to being impaled. The Guardian really didn’t want to test how far his mortality went, even if there was a chance he would become a spirit once again.

“Aah!” a yelp drew Jack’s attention away from the bolt and towards the two Vikings. Hiccup let out another grunt of pained protest as Dagur snaked his hand around the back of the Dragon Rider’s head and clenched a fist full of auburn hair in his grasps. A grimace threatened to split across the teen’s face but he held it in check with his face mere inches away from the redhead’s. “Hey, maybe you should take a little break.”

“Not till I take out that Night Fury. I know it’s on this island, Hiccup. I can feel it right here,” Dagur hissed released the shorter boy’s hair in favor of staking away. The Berserker agitatedly paced around the campfire while Hiccup sank down on the log in relief. One of his hands instinctively reach up to rubbed the back of his head, wincing as fingers probed a tender stop.

Concerned about the Dragon Rider, Jack hesitatingly reached forward – pausing slightly to build put the nerves – and wove his hand around the top part of Hiccup’s leg where metal met flesh. The light touch had green eyes darting down at the unexpected contact which the ex-spirit was waiting for in order to give him a reassuring grin to calm both their nerves. However, what little comfort either of them found was obliterated when the Berserker chief completed his circle round the fire and abruptly grabbed hold of Hiccup’s wrist.

Pulling the shorter teen up onto unstable feet – the Guardian’s hand was jerked off the auburn haired Viking’s leg – Dagur positioned the captured hand over his heart. “You feel it, too, don’t you, Hiccup?”

The demanded – because it really wasn’t a question – and his current position had the Dragon Rider disturbed to the point he didn’t hold his tongue as he had been. “No. I just feel really awkward.”

Hiccup missed the taller Viking face twitching as he ducked his head, wincing at his slip. Though he definitely didn’t miss the guffaws which forced their way out of his mouth in short bursts before the Berserker dissolved into a fit of hysterical laughter. Jack, on the other hand, saw the whole reaction along with the Dragon Rider falling on his ass when the deranged Viking suddenly released his hold.

“You bring the funny, Hiccup. I’ll give you that. I’m gonna grab my gear. Then we’re gonna get us that Night Fury, brother.”

“Brother?”

“That’s right. You and me,” Dagur agreed heading towards his tent. On his way he passed by the brunet, picking up his favorite hunting weapon he had carelessly thrown to the side. Jack was just glad to get the stupid crossbow away from him, even if he had to bite his tongue at the smirk the redhead shot him. Only when the Berserker was in his tent making inauspicious sounds did either of them release their breaths they were unknowingly holding.

“And the awkwardness continues,” Hiccup exhaled. Jack snorted and scooted closer to where the Viking had falling. They sat in silence as the noises from the tent became louder. “We’ve got to stall him. I just don’t know how.”

“Leave that to me,” Jack smirked, pushing himself to his feet. Looking up into the starless night sky, the wind picked up around him and the flames of the campfire wavered, almost going out. Raising his voice loud enough to catch Dagur’s attention even inside the shelter, he spoke. “Jokul Frosti is afoot, I do not believe now is the time to go after the Night Fury, _Master._ He may take offense and directed his ire onto us.”

“What did you say, Druid?” Dagur demanded, his head bursting forth through the tent flaps. Teeth bared as his upper lip pulled back in a sneer and hard look in his eyes which went unnoticed as amber eyes continued to stare up at the faint outline of the moon behind the clouds.

“I am merely giving warning to the Son of the Chief I was bound to in order to safeguard him from Jokul Frosti,” Jack replied dismissively. Amber eyes seemingly flashing with an inner light that had nothing to do with the flames of the fire as his emotions raged under the thin layer of control he barely managed to hang on to.

“And who is this Jokul Frosti?” the chief demanded stomping out of the tent and right up to the immortal teenager. Jack didn’t even flinch and held his head high, not giving Dagur the pleasure of seeing him look up at the taller man.

Hiccup – catching on to the brunet’s plan – took a step forward, drawing the deranged Viking’s attention to him. “You don’t know of Jokul Frosti? And you call yourself a Viking, how can you not?”

“He is important?” Dagur questioned, the anger he had shown towards the ex-spirit gone within a blink of an eyes as he faced his ‘brother’. Yet, the underlying unhinged vibe he was getting from the Berserker was still there and Jack had a feeling it had always been there and would always be there. “Who is he? I must know.”

“Well _Druid_ , why don’t you tell him,” Hiccup gave the ex-spirit an opening, flashing him a small grin to convey the charade. A grin which Jack returned.

“Jokul Frosti-,” the Guardian of Fun begun to weave his tale, a much darker version of the one he had told the children of Berk. He needed to put a little fear into Dagur the Deranged’s heart after all; it won’t due for him to scuff at the personification of winter itself. The Viking needed to do something which Jack Frost never wanted to be associated with his name. Dagur needed to fear him.

He drew his story out all long as possible, pausing at the right times to build suspense and stall all he could. Nonetheless, Dagur grew relentless and Hiccup was forced to intervene, coercing Jack to finish his story and declare they should go hunting. After reluctantly ‘sensing’ Odin was with them, the ex-spirit randomly pointed in a direction and recited what he hoped sounded like some mystical revelation – but was really nonsense – before they headed out to _hunt_ _dragons_.

This was how Jack found himself sneaking quietly after the two Vikings holding the lantern as a good ‘slave’ should while Hiccup carried his shield and Dagur his crossbow. He was not a happy camper. Although, that could have also been due to the fact he found himself wearing the auburn haired Viking’s fur vest to keep him warm. Not that he wasn’t grateful, but this was the second time the immortal teenager had worn an article of Hiccup’s clothing which had him feeling weird.

Currently, they were walking through a small path of what had once been one large boulder but had since cracked in half. At one point, the small group had been traveling on top of the flat rock. However, a strong gale of wind came out of nowhere and knocked the deranged Viking over the edge. Sadly, he was alright and only came out of the whole ordeal with some lumps and scratches. Jack had made sure to quietly thank the winds when they slowed down into a gently breezed and gusted around him to let him know it had been no trouble.

“Shh! That could be him,” Dagur shushed them even though neither had spoken. He stopped at the mouth of the two opposing rocks, the crossbow pointed towards the sky while his other hand was held back in the universal sign to stop.

Both Jack and Hiccup paused as well, having no other choice since the redhead was blocking the only way out. They listened and at first, neither heard anything but then the sound repeated itself. It took a moment for the ex-spirit to place the sound as loose gravel crunching beneath the feet of a large creature. How they had missed the sound the first time was beyond Jack. Then again, the howling of the wind as it passed through the gorge kind of deafened him to the outside noises whereas Dagur – being at the mouth of the fissure – could hear the noise without as much interference.

“No, that sounds too big,” Hiccup listened as the noise persisted and the immortal teen could tell he was worried the noise could be one of their dragons. Jack wanted to tell the Dragon Rider he had nothing to fear, that the faeries were looking over the dragons and vice versa.

Not to mention Mr. Vadderung was on the island and he wouldn’t let any harm come to them. However, he did not think the Old Man would appreciate him divulging his existence to mere mortals without his consent. There was also the fact he didn’t know this time’s Mr. Vadderung well and he could not be positive the god would keep the dragons from harm.

True to Hiccup’s words a more yellow than red Monstrous Nightmare appeared on the ledge of the plateau above them. The dragon eyed something in the distance and didn’t bother to look down. A thunderous roar echoed in the gorge as the Monstrous Nightmare took flight, shooting flames at the brush below. The foliage caught fire, only to burned itself out due to the existence of excess water in the new growth.

“You’re right. I’m taking him down anyway. Just for fun,” the Berserker agreed, attempting to get the dragon between his crosshairs. Before Jack had time to react, Hiccup shoved his shoulder into the body in front of him. The jolt was enough to send the bolt off course and flying into the path of another jet of flames, eating the arrow up in seconds. Dagur whirled around on the Dragon Rider, anger radiating from his whole body as he took a threatening step into the smaller Viking’s personal space. “How dare you?!”

“He had to,” Jack quickly leaped to Hiccup’s defenses – both literally and figuratively by getting in between the two Vikings – knowing the other teen was not great at coming up with lies on the spot. In contrast, he had spent most of his mortal life lying to his father and weaving stories to the town’s children about anything and everything. It was something he was good at and he was going to use his skill to Hiccup’s advantage. “The Night Fury would have smelled it.”

“They can do that?” Dagur lowered his crossbow, the angry expression dropping off his face to be replaced by that of bewilderment.

“Oh, yes,” Hiccup took a fistful of his vest in hand and tugged the ex-spirit behind him, giving the taller teenager a warning glance which Jack interpreted to mean be quiet. “Excellent sense of smell. It would have sensed danger and fled.”

“Look at us. You, this little runt of a-” he jabbed his finger at the auburn haired teenager and waved his hand dismissively. “Well, you know what you are with your Druid slave. And me, Dagur the Deranged. Who would have ever thought we’d make such a formidable team?”

The Guardian held his tongue while amber eyes were fixed on Hiccup who was yet again picked up by the shoulders and shaken. Really, Dagur was a menace and didn’t know the meaning of personal boundaries. His only gratification was it wasn’t him being shaken; Jack’s stomach was still queasy over the dragon meat thing. That didn’t mean he didn’t feel for the Dragon Rider being shaken.

“Not me. That’s for sure,” Hiccup wheezed out when his feet were suddenly on the firm ground. The palms of his hands braced against his knees as he worked to catch a breath.

“Let’s move out,” Dagur commanded heading back into the gorge they just came out of. Once he was a few paces in, the ex-spirit positioned the lantern so its light washed over the bend over teen. Long fingers cautiously reached out and rested a hand on Hiccup’s shoulder before quickly retreating. However, it was enough for green eyes to look up into liquid amber.

“You okay?” Jack moved the lantern closer and he got the feeling those vivid green eyes could see through him. That they had caught a glimpse of the worry in his face even if it was covered by a few layers of distain directed towards the Chief of the Berserker Tribe. No one had ever been able to read him so easily, not even his mother and sister. It unnerved him.

“Yeah, just need to catch my breath is all,” the Dragon Rider waved him off and he hoped Hiccup didn’t notice the hasty way he broke eye contact. Jack stood to the side as the auburn haired Viking took a few more deep breaths before standing up straight and adjusting the shield on his arm. “Come on; let’s go before he starts to get suspicious.”

“As if he would notice; he’s too focus on finding Toothless to see much of anything else,” the Guardian of Fun tried to bring some levity to the situation they found themselves in. “I bet we could sneak away and find the others without him noticing we even left.”

“Don’t underestimate him Jackson, he’s a trained warrior,” Hiccup shook his head, lips pulled downwards while his eyes were trained on the back of the Berserker they were following a few paces behind. The ex-spirit could recognize a warning when being given one; he was not to misjudge the redhead.

“A derange trained warrior,” Jack amended, happy when he noticed the Viking’s lips twitching upwards at his comments. The auburn haired teen hadn’t truly smiled since getting to the island and it brought him great joy to be the one who was able to bring about the true smile even if the circumstance were dire.

“A derange trained warrior,” Hiccup correct, his smile growing a tad bit bigger, “yet he is still the Chief of the Berserkers. He may act however he likes, but the truth is, he has the skill to back up his power or else the Berserkers wouldn’t follow him.”

With a resigned sighing, the immortal teenager nodded his head in an unspoken agreement he wouldn’t provoke the Berserker. For now.

Dagur was sounding more and more like Pitch the more Jack learned about him. He was not a threat to take idly like the rogue Nightmares horses leftover from Easter of 2012 that the Guardian had to deal with around Burgess every now and again. No, the Viking was more like the Nightmare Men he had been dealing with before being thrown into the past. In other words, Dagur was someone he shouldn’t be taken lightly.

“Thank you,” the Dragon Rider smiled at him and nodded his head. “Come on, the sooner we follow the _deranged Viking_ across the island, the sooner we can get out of here.”

Rolling his eyes, they exited the gorge together in time to see Dagur tilting his head up towards the rocky cliffs, holding up the crossbow up and keeping the ridge’s edges in his crosshairs. The Guardian didn’t bother wasting his time and wondering about the over embellished actions of the man was exerting to find the Night Fury. Not that Dagur would answer a ‘slave’. The Berserker could waste however much energy he wanted while they were hunting dangerous creatures.

It was actually quite amusing watching the man when he wasn’t getting them lost. Thankfully, Hiccup was able to get them unlost and the deranged Viking took credit for the deed. He had crossed tracks with numerous different dragons and believed they all belonged to the Night Fury which – even with Jack’s limited knowledge of the different species – the ex-spirit could tell they belonged to at least three different dragons, maybe more. None of which belonged to Toothless. Right now, if the Guardian was right, they were trailing another Monstrous Nightmare.

The dragon had led them to a clearing surrounded by rocks and foliage where grunts and grumbles could be heard on the other side of the vegetation. Nevertheless, they must have crossed paths with another creature because the noises coming from the foliage definitely didn’t belong to a Monstrous Nightmare. The atmosphere was all wrong for a dragon – or even a faerie – yet the impression the Druid did get was _normal_ for the lack of a better word.

“Shh-shh! Listen,” Dagur shushed them, despite being the one making the most noise. Yanking Hiccup by the arm, he pulled them behind a boulder and ducked down. Jack followed at a slower more sedative pace and crouched down next to the Dragon Rider currently on his ass. “Smaller this time; could be the Night Fury.”

“Th-that actually sounds more like a wild yak to me,” Hiccup used a niche in the rock as leverage to get up and peer over the boulder for a look. His whole body was tense, coiled to prevent the Berserker from taking a shot at any dragon. The Guardian had to bite his tongue from telling the Viking wouldn’t have to derail Dagur again without sounding suspicious. Conversely, if he did not say anything and Hiccup disturbed the deranged man then he would be under suspicion.  

All he could do was watch as Dagur put the greenery in his crosshairs with his finger twitching to pull the trigger and the rustling grew louder. He couldn’t stop Hiccup from reaching for the crossbow. Jack didn’t have to.

The burst of mirth, which was quickly covered up with a plausible faked sneeze, couldn’t be held back. Not that immortal teenager tried too hard as Snotlout stumbled out from two bushes. Nonetheless, it was Hiccup’s dry remark which converted his fake sneezes back into laughter.

“Eh, close enough.”

Snotlout, occupied with pulling the twigs and leaves out of his hair and clothing, must have heard the distinctive nasally voice and looked up. His face brightened when he noticed the Head of the Dragon Academy and hastily made his way to meet the group emerging from behind the boulder. Jack quirked an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic display and absentmindedly wondered what the broad-shouldered Viking had gotten himself into in the time they had been separated.

“Hiccup! Whoa, am I glad to see you,” Snotlout blabbered on and waving his lantern around and completely missing the discreet gestures from the auburn haired teenager to stop talking. “You would not believe what I’ve been through. This place is crawling with wild dragons.”

“It’s called _Dragon_ Island, Snotlout,” Jack’s sarcastic remark drew the other brunet’s attention and in extension, towards the Berserker’s chief.

“Dagur! What are you doing here?” the brawny brunet gushed, abandoning Berk’s next in-line for chief to go to Dagur’s side. The exuberance he had upon seeing Hiccup almost tripled when his eyes landed on the redhead. His face almost split in half, posturing by puffed his chest out and tensing his arm muscles.

“Snot… hat, is it?” the redhead eyed the shorter Viking with obvious distain and the ex-spirit couldn’t believe it went right over Snotlout’s head. If any of the other Academy members had said something like that – what little Jack had come to know about the other brunet – would have had him verbally or even physically retaliated. This wasn’t the case when it came to Dagur though.

Snotlout, much to Jack’s irritation at the Viking demeaning himself, let out a forced laugh and corrected him. “Snot-lout. Snot- _lout_.”

The burly Viking’s posturing failed him when Dagur turned away from him. His shoulders dropping and the smile disappeared. He even went as far as to turn his body away from them and the Guardian felt his heart go out to the boy. Hiccup – either picking up on his hostility at Dagur or Snotlout’s grief – jostled Jack towards the other brunet so he was standing by the auburn haired Viking and positioned himself at Snotlout’s side.

“Whatever. I thought you said you were here alone,” the maddened man rounded on Hiccup and downright ignored the Viking with hero-worship in his eyes. If Jack didn’t already like the man, he would have started to now. The brunet disliked it when people tried to change who they were to impress other. He _hated_ it when the other people just scoffed and disregarded the changing those made to appease them.

“I-I thought I was. Snotlout!” Hiccup responded, placing a hand on the brawny teenager’s shoulder and discretely applied a liberal amount of pressure. Jack noticed an odd looking entering into blue eyes, his eyebrows furrowing downwards. “Why, you were supposed to stay at base camp.”

“Huh?” clearly he was not picking up on the silent conversation going on and Jack knew exactly how he felt. He had been in the Viking’s very boots only an hour earlier.

“While I am _hunting_ dragons, here in the forest _with my Druid_ ,” Hiccup stressed out, eyes darting to Dagur and back again a few times, trying to get his point across.

The point was lost.

“You’re doing what in the where with who?” Snotlout scratched the side of his head, just below his helmet. Vivid green eyes looked skywards and Jack could tell the auburn haired Dragon Rider was fighting the urge to slam his head into unoccupied hand.

“Not the sharpest arrow in the quiver, is he?” the Berserker grumbled heading on out. Walking pass the two Hairy Hooligan Tribe members and the Guardian, Dagur gave off the impression he was going to resume hunting the Night Fury, with or without them.

“Not even close,” Hiccup bemoaned eyes tracking the retreating form of the redhead. Once he wasn’t in hearing range, the Head of the Dragon Training Academy rounded on Snotlout with a rushed, hushed explanation. “Play along. We cannot let Dagur know about our dragons. He’ll try to take them home and mount them on his wall.”

“Wait, you mean…” Snotlout trailed off arms outstretched and his lantern swinging lamely, threatening to fall out of his hands. Blue eyes went wide while the color drained from his face.

“Yeah,” Jack confirmed, “and don’t forget Hiccup, you had the brilliant idea of telling Dagur _I_ was a _spoil of war_.”

“ _What?_ ” this time the lantern did fall and it was only the ex-spirit’s honed reflex which allowed him to catch it before shattering on the ground. Apparently, it was more stunning Hiccup would own a slave than the Berserker mounting his dragon’s head on a wall. It was a laughable matter, one that he fully gave into.

“Laugh it up Snot _hat_ ,” Jack growled out storming after Dagur, shoving the lantern roughly in the other brunet’s chest. While he was at it, the immortal teenager made sure to stomp his feet extra forcefully to scare away any nearby dragons.

Just before he left the clearing, he heard Snotlout’s no so discrete voice. “What made you say that?”

Jack was tempted to stay back to hear the answer, but he was too pissed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really Hiccup? Spoils of war? How could you make me write such things? But we all know how you feel about Jack, even if you don't realized it yourself at the moment.


	13. The Fury Left Behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the people who reviewed (they are getting far and few between), I really appreciate it since the last few chapters (plus this one) have been difficult for me to write.

It wasn’t long until the growing group ran into another Academy member. Literally. Snotlout had been bringing up the rear, inconspicuously looking for any signs of their dragons. For unknown reasons though, he was taking the assignment given to him by Hiccup very literal and was walking backwards.

Fishlegs – who had also been walking backwards for whatever reasons – had come out of the foliage after the others had walked by and backed in to the shorter Viking’s back. Both had jumped and screamed. The heavyset Viking almost lost his hold on the lantern in his right hand whereas Snotlout almost bashed the blond in the head with his lantern when he swung around. Thankfully, the brawny brunet diverted the blow when he saw who was behind him, yet the whole ruckus managed to attract the attention of everyone in the vicinity.

“Fishlegs,” Hiccup came to the rescue, getting the two screaming teenagers to shut up with the simple – stressed out – word. Both were heaving yet the heavyset Viking was trembling from the sudden jolt which had the Head of the Academy placing a comforting hand on blond’s shaking shoulder. He also used the gesture to direct Fishlegs’s attention towards Dagur standing off to the side going between glaring at the Vikings of Berk and leering at Jackson. “Would you look? It’s Dagur, who is also out _hunting_ _dragons_ , just like us.”

“Yes. We are dragon hunters out hunting dragons,” Snotlout jumped in – his voice uneven and forced as he annunciated each word carefully – throwing his arms around Hiccup and Fishlegs. His blue eyes darted around frantically as he fought to keep from flinching at the thought of his dragon being hunted.

“Hiccup, your definition of ‘alone’ and mine are very different,” Dagur tilted his chin down and frowned. His eyes drifted uninterested over the group before landing on the newest member of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe. His glare soon turned to an appraising look as he took in Fishlegs’s vast size. “But perhaps, this one can help us-”

“-hunt dragons! `Cause that’s what we are doing: hunting,” the brunet Viking unconsciously tighten his hold on both his shieldbrothers’ shoulders to the point they were both grimacing. He didn’t want Hookfang’s head hanging on anyone’s walls.

“Dragons,” Hiccup emphasized with a pointed look.

Thankfully, it was Fishlegs they were dealing with and not the twins, because and he was able to catch on to the blatant hints being thrown around. “Ok, got it.”

“Druid! Where should we be heading?” the Berserker whirled around towards to glare at the brunet standing off to the side.

Clearly, Dagur was not happy with the increasing number of people in the group and since he couldn’t take it out on the Vikings of an allied tribe, he took it out on Jackson instead. Shoving the slender body, the brunet should have fallen to the ground. However, he was paying particularly close attention to the deranged man since amber eyes had been glaring at him the entire time. As it was, Jackson was able to turn his body just right to absorb the blow and stumbled back a step due to the blow. But the Druid didn’t fall, which further infuriate Dagur.

Fishlegs, having witnessed the whole ordeal, attempted to catch vivid green eyes with his own but Snotlout caught his attention instead. With a slight shake of his head, the brunet Viking indicated for him to keep quiet. Wisely, the Gronckle rider closed his mouth but that didn’t prevent blue eyes from wondering over to the Head of the Academy.

The chief’s son was barely holding himself back. His whole body ridged and coiled, hands forming into tight fists as teeth grinded together. He seemed to be about to break yet a flash of gleaming amber had all of the Vikings of Berk frozen in their place.

Taking a deep breath, Jackson made a show of ‘sensing’ which direction they should follow. If he still had his staff, Hiccup thought he could have made an even bigger spectacle of it, but for now the Druid made do with what he had. Closing his eyes, the teenager slowly turned in a circle. He stopped every once in a while as if to listening to something the Vikings couldn’t hear only to resume his circle once more. Finally, he pointed in a random direction as amber eyes sprung open.

“That way.”

“Ho-ho! Forward,” Dagur commanded, rounding on the others and singling out the auburn haired Viking. Grabbing the smaller Viking’s arm, he pulled the teen forward and threw his free arm over Hiccup’s shoulder. As he passed by Jackson, he leered at the glaring Druid before smirking at the Viking in his grasp. “You know, we’re a lot alike, Hiccup.”

“Really? How… How’s that?” Hiccup stuttered swallowing hard, his nose wrinkling at the man’s actions. He didn’t know what was running through the Berserker’s mind about his association with Jackson and he didn’t think he wanted to know either. Especially since Dagur had mentioned the burnet’s exotic appearance a few more times throughout their hunting trip followed by him licking his lips right afterwards.

“Well, we’re both born leaders,” the redhead shrugged, not that Hiccup was paying much attention since he kept finding himself glancing over at Jackson. The brunet was too busy filling in Fishlegs on what was going on to notice. Although, vivid green eyes narrowed when they caught Jackson rubbing his shoulder where Dagur had shoved for a third time, making the chief’s son want to go over there and check if he was alright. However, the Berserker’s presence was a strong reminder of why that would be a very bad idea.

“Oh, yeah. He’s right about that,” Snotlout responded for his preoccupied leader, breaking the teenager out of his contemplation. If he had noticed the auburn haired Viking’s lapse in attention and covering for him or if he just wanted to talk to Dagur, Hiccup didn’t know. Either way, he still appreciated the save and gave a nod of approval in Snotlout’s direction.

“Sons of Chiefs,” the Berserker continued on, not even caring it wasn’t Hiccup who answered him.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Hiccup absentmindedly nodded, vivid green eyes still locked on Jackson as he rubbed his shoulder for a fourth time.

“Who had to be eliminated so we could gain control” Dagur whipped his crossbow to the left, finger twitching to pull the trigger.                          

“Yes… what? No, no,” the auburn haired Viking suddenly stopped, eyes darting away from the Druid and on the crazed face staring down the crosshairs of his weapon. “My dad hasn’t been eliminated from anything.”

“But he could, easily,” Dagur eagerly offered, petting his crossbow lovingly. “Just say the word and…”

Spinning around, the Viking pulled the trigger. The bolt soared passed Snotlout, nicking him on the cheek and drawing a line of blood before continuing on. Fishlegs screamed as his lantern was jerked out of his hand, taken by the projectile. Jackson dropped down, one hand planting itself firmly on the ground as he rolled forward and pushed up. Twisting his body in air, the Druid landed on his feet and held up the lantern which miraculously hadn’t gone out. Amber eyes glanced backward at the tree with the blond Viking’s lantern hanging from the bolt protruding out of the trunk.

The only sound to be heard was the metal of the lantern creaking as it swung back and forth.                            

Hiccup almost stopped the charade then and there, ready to shout at the Chief of the Berserker Tribe for daring to hurt the members of _his_ tribe. Jackson could have been _killed_ by his little stunt. He was terrified for the Druid – Dagur had aimed directly at the younger teenager, intentionally or unintentionally was still up for debate – and enraged at the redhead’s sheer audacity to fire upon someone under his protection.

He wasn’t the only one angry. The wind gave the impression of being just as upset as well. What had been only a mild breeze turned into a raging gale within a matter of seconds after the bolt had been fired. The auburn haired Viking was quick to raise his shield and block the debris from pelting his face whereas the others only had their arms to shield their faces. That is, only Fishlegs and Snotlout used their arms to protect themselves. Dagur was too busy being fixated on a spot behind a large rock to even care about the howling winds.

As for Jackson, he didn’t seem to be affected by the harsh winds. In fact, the winds appeared to be circling around him calmly, almost like they were caressing him, which was utterly impossible. Still, Hiccup watched as the brunet’s lips moved like he was softly speaking to someone yet not one word could be heard over the howls. Then, just as suddenly as they began, the winds suddenly died down.

Taking a moment to take a deep breath and remind himself that his father would be displeased if their alliance fell through, the chief’s son continued on with the charade. “Yeah, that’s something to think about.”

However, Dagur didn’t seem to hear him and held up a hand in an old hunting signal as he crouched down low. Rolling his eyes, Hiccup copied the redhead and crouched down, holding up his own hand to signal the others. Snotlout dropped to his knees upon seeing the signal and held up his own hand which had Fishlegs following his lead. Not knowing what else to do, Jackson hunkered down as well.

Out of the corner of amber colored eyes, the brunet caught sight of Astrid creep up behind Snotlout before lightly grabbed hold of his raise fist. The Viking startled and swung his other hand in a fist ready to punch the blonde shieldmaiden who dared touch him. Yet, when he saw it was Astrid, he froze. She in turned raised her free hand and put a single finger to her lips in an attempted to keep his quiet. It didn’t work.

“Ast-!” the word was abruptly cut off when Astrid used her grip on Snotlout’s hand to punch him in the face with his own fist. She then made a hasty retreat when Dagur’s head whipped around to glare at the broad-shouldered Viking. He only barely missed the shieldmaiden’s feet disappearing into the bushes she had previously snuck out of not moments prior. The only indication of her ever being there was the rustling of leaves.

Dagur let out a heavy sigh and looked back at Snotlout with a scowl, thankfully missing the blonde by a second. “Which one of your friends is it going to be this time?”

“It’s hard to say,” eying the tall brush in front of him, Hiccup shrugged his shoulders.

Their luck, sadly, had finally run out and a dragon growl ripped through the air. A growl Hiccup was very familiar and pair that up with the telltale whine of a Night Fury winding up to fire, he felt his heart drop. He was proven correct when a plasma blast came within inches of hitting Dagur. The only reason the redhead wasn’t burnt to a crisp was because the warrior reacted on instinct and jumped out of the way in time.

Looking up, the Dragon Rider saw his dragon’s head peering over the smoldering foliage. Acid green eyes were mere slits as they fixated on the Berserker. His lips pulled back to reveal sharp white teeth as another growl rent the air.

“The Night Fury! Hiccup, my brother, you’ve done it! You’ve led me right to it,” Dagur clapped a stunned auburn haired Viking on the shoulder in congratulations before pulling his weapon up to his right eye. He took only enough time to haphazardly line up Toothless’s head in his crosshairs before the Berserker applied pressure to the trigger. “Arrow, meet dragon. Dragon, meet-”

“No, no, Dagur, wait!” the chief’s son barked out, shaking out of the stupor he fell in at the sight of Toothless. He was even more stunned when the redhead actually listened to him and Dagur lowered the crossbow. However, the look he received told Hiccup if he didn’t start have a good enough reason for stopping him, his life might very well be forfeited. “I…I would like to do it.”

The Berserker looked bewildered at first before the meaning of the words dawned on him.

“I saw him first!” Dagur whined, stomping his foot petulantly and jerking a finger at Toothless.

If it had been anyone else, they would have found it odd the Night Fury hadn’t already flown off into the night. As it was, the crazed man repositioned the crossbow, lining up his shot.

“Yes, but I led you to him,” Hiccup futilely strove to reason with the deranged man, grabbing on to the top of the weapon and yank it out of his hands.

“But I brought the crossbow. All you brought was that useless ornate shield,” Dagur reclaimed the crossbow and shoved the auburn haired Viking to the side. “Now, stand aside.”

The Head of the Dragon Training Academy prepared to throw himself at the Berserker stalking towards Toothless to keep him from shooting said dragon. However, he was saved from making a fool of himself when a flock of Terrible Terrors came out of nowhere and flew right into the redhead’s face. The bolt from the crossbow shot forward, but it went wild and embedded itself into the tree next to Toothless instead of in the dragon.

Whilst the Berserker chief was being assaulted by the small dragons – much to Jackson’s amusement – Hiccup used one of the newer hand signs the Academy members had been teaching their dragons to signaled Toothless away. Reluctantly, the Night Fury followed his rider’s orders and disappeared back into the forests, but not without a backward glance.  

While Toothless was making his escape via treetops, an angry Astrid sauntered into the clearing from behind the very tree the Terrible Terrors had come from. “What’s wrong with you? I almost had those Terrible Terrors. They were right in my hands.”

“Terrors, shmerrors. We’re hunting a Night Fury here,” Dagur growled, glaring down into raging blue eyes. Thus the deranged hunter fell for the shieldmaiden’s distraction, giving Toothless ample enough time to get away. Something the redhead didn’t fail to notice and in turn, glared at Hiccup for his underlings’ shortcoming. “Did you leave anyone back on Berk?”

Dry chuckles escaped Hiccup as he adjusted his shield on his arm again. “Very funny, Dagur.”

The man just grunted and appeared to want to punch someone. However, he thought better of it and whirled around, stomping his feet as he headed over to retrieve his bolt. Only when he was preoccupied with tugging at the bolt firmly embedded in the tree did the shieldmaiden deem it safe enough to speak without being overheard.

“Did he say ‘hunting a Night Fury?” the Deadly Nadder rider harshly whispered into Hiccup’s ears.

Green eyes flickered over to the Berserker before turning back to the blonde and grimly nodded. “Yep. That’s exactly what he said.”

“But Toothless is…” Astrid trailed off, glancing over where the Night Fury had been only moments before.

“I know,” Hiccup sighed resignedly before quickly explaining the situation. “Jackson was watching the dragons but then Toothless decided to took off with his things and he followed. He didn’t think he’d be gone long and left the rest of the dragons behind. However, they certainly aren’t where Jackson’s left them now. You guys need to find Ruff and Tuff, grab your dragons, and get out of here.” The shieldmaiden opened her mouth to protest but Hiccup beat her too it. “Don’t’ worry. Dagur won’t hurt me. I’m his ‘brother’.”

As if being summoned, the redhead was at the Head of the Academy’s back, hooking his arm around the smaller teen’s shoulders and completely missing the tense atmosphere. What was more, the newly loaded crossbow which was in the hand Dagur had thrown over Hiccup’s shoulder was pressed dangerously close to the Night Fury rider’s heart.

“Come, Hiccup, while the trail is still fresh.”

“I-I,” the auburn haired Viking faltered for a moment before coming up with a plan and turning toward Astrid as much as he could as Dagur began to drag him off hunting once again. “I can’t hunt with an entourage. Go back to Berk. Leave us to our business.”

As he was being pulled further away from his friends, Hiccup felt relief he could finally get Jackson to safety. The rest of the Dragon Riders would make sure he was alright. He just hoped the Druid wouldn’t still be mad at him by the time he finally got around to ditching Dagur.

Although, when he looked back he was perplexed by why amber eyes were fixated on the rockface high above them. Following the line of sight, the auburn haired Dragon Rider thought he saw some flickering lights and a moment later, he saw the forms of Stormfly, Meatlug, and Hookfang peering down at their riders below. His relief at the sight of the three dragons was short lived when Dagur shouted at Jackson and Hiccup had stumbled over nothing.

“Come Druid, follow your master.”

* * *

“I don’t get it. Why doesn’t it fly away?” Dagur huffed as they chase after the black dragon across uneven terrain. Hiccup was having a hard time clambering over the slick flat rocks. His metal foot slipping, not being able to find purchase and it was only because of Jackson behind him that he hadn’t fallen.

“Maybe it wants us to follow,” the Dragon Rider hesitantly offered, panting slightly as he reached the top.

“Maybe it wants to kill you,” Jackson remarked dryly at the same time; Hiccup’s voice barely loud enough to cover up his words.

“You mean a trap?” Dagur asked taken back for all of two seconds before a maniacal grin made its way across his face.

The chief’s son failed to notice the grin. “Exactly. Yes. Maybe we should go back.”

“Oh _brother_ , don’t you know that a trapper’s traps can tap the trapper?” Dagur babbled on waving his free hand about in wild erratic gesture which made no sense to anyone who wasn’t him.

“What does that even mean?” Hiccup shook his head and shifted his weight from his leg to the prosthetic and back again when a jolt of pain shot up his leg.

“I don’t know,” the deranged man cackling, his whole body shaking as he laughed madly.

“It means, an idiot can get trapped in their own trap,” Jackson grumbled but was ignored once again when the Berserker caught sight of Toothless and jumped off the ledged to chase after the dragon.

“We can only hope,” Hiccup gave the brunet a strained smile which was returned.

Huffing, the Druid followed Dagur and jumped off the ledge, landing with barely any sound. The auburn haired Viking on the other hand could use a little work on his landings. His metal foot slipping out from under him at the very last second causing him to ended up on his hands knees rather than his feet. Still, the Dragon Rider pushed aside the pain radiating from his bad leg and got back up onto his feet.

Running after Dagur might not have been good for his leg, it didn’t make it hurt any worse either. There were a few times were he almost lost sight of the Berserker but Jackson never did and he kept them going in the right direction. Although, with Dagur constantly shooting off bolt after bolt at Toothless – missing each and every time – Hiccup thought his nerves would give out long before his leg did.

“You're not gonna hit anything with that,” the breathlessly Dragon Rider spoke up as they reached another set of cliffs. Looking down, he could see they had done a loop and were now back near the shores of the island.

“I know that! I'm just trying to keep him running in that direction,” Dagur stated matter-of-factly, rolling his eyes and turning his back to Hiccup. He couldn’t make out what the other Viking was doing, but there was a clinking of steel against steel and then light burst out around the Berserker. A second latter, a flaming arrow was sorrowing through the sky.

“What was that?” Jackson asked from the auburn haired teenager’s side. There was a bit of apprehension in his voice. He didn’t get to answer, yet Hiccup was pretty sure the bolt had been a signal flare. To who, the Viking didn’t have any idea but there was someone out there Dagur was beckoning.

“To be honest, Hiccup, I didn't exactly come here alone either,” the deranged Viking turned back to face them, completely ignoring the brunet’s had even spoken as the right side of his lips pulling up in a deformed smirk. It was all the warning either of them were going to get before several fire-lit arrow come soaring through the sky from the direction Dagur’s bolt had gone.

“Dagur, Night Furies are very lethal. A few more men won't make a difference.” Hiccup had been right, the flaming bolt had been a signal to a few people the Berserker had brought along. While there could be a few more problems with the new arrivals – having counted about five flame arrows in total – there wasn’t much to worry about. Toothless could outwit five more Vikings.

“Oh, crap,” Jackson breathed out loud enough for only the Dragon Rider to hear, but Hiccup only half paid attention to him. He was more worried about the man before his eyes.

“Really? You think so? Lucky for us, I brought the armada along and, like, a bazillion armed Berserkers!” Dagur made a grand gesture with his arms in a patronizingly way, which caused those vivid green eyes to look up into the night sky and see what the brunet had already spotted.

Hundreds of fire-lit arrows soaring up and back down, some of them so poorly aimed that they almost nearly hit the three of them. Dagur wasn’t even fazed that the flaming arrows were raining down around them, yet, miraculously none struck him. Jackson – who had been watching the projectiles trajectory – was dodging the bolts, side stepping, cartwheeling and summersaulting out of their path. Moving from one motion to the next with grace, so when Hiccup was forced to protect himself with his shield, he felt like he took the easy way out.

"Yeah, that might actually make a difference,” the Dragon Rider chastised himself after the shower of fire ended. Why couldn’t he have kept his mouth shut? He must have been cursed, that was the only explanation he could think of as lowered the shield.

“Oh, yeah. We're gonna drive that beast right to them, and they can finish him off!” the Berserker bellowed, chest puffed out while green eyes glittered in the night due to the still burning arrows littered the ground.

“Not exactly sporting,” Jackson stated contemptuous, brushing dirt off of the brown fur vest he was wearing.

Dagur, who had begun collecting a few of the burnt out bolts to replenish his own supplies, whirled around and grabbed the front of Jackson’s shirt, hauling him close to his face. “I don't care about sporting! I care about killing that Night Fury and wearing its skull as a helmet!”

Throwing the much smaller and frailer boy back, the deranged man proceed to pick up the bolts he had drop in his anger and reloaded the crossbow with them. Only then did he storm off, resuming in following the trail Toothless left. It also gave Hiccup the opportunity to make sure the Druid was alright.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Toothless needs your worry more,” Jackson gritted, slowly standing up awkwardly. Green eyes tried to find any injury but with the lack of light and brunet walking away from him, the Dragon Rider was forced to take his word for it. “Come, let’s go.”

“Right,” Hiccup agreed and if only he would have looked a little harder, he would have notice the trail of blood running down from the younger teen’s elbow. As it was his fear for Toothless out weighing the slight concern he had for the Druid.

The sound of another bolt being fired had Hiccup running in the direction the violent Viking had gone off in. His heart jumped up into his throat while his feet froze to the spot when wide green eyes landed on Toothless. The Night Fury was taking cover behind a boulder but Dagur had already spotted him and was making his way around back, intending to catch the dragon unware. Toothless would be unable to get away since with the hunter’s new approach, he would be cornered on the edge of the island, dangerously close to falling off the ledge into the ocean below.

Hiccup had finally reached his limit. He was fed up with the Berserk and his treatment of his friends. He couldn’t allow this charade to go on any longer, treaty be damned.

Grimacing in anger and clenching his fists in balls, the Dragon Rider snapped, letting all of his pent up feeling coming exploding out at once. “Okay, that's it. I am _NOT_ going to let you kill that dragon!”

“This again? Fine, you saw it first, you can take home a wing or something,” Dagur didn’t even bother to turn around, his voice holding the annoyed and distain he felt at being interrupted again. Yet, he still waved off the auburn haired teenager like he was nothing and focused instead on getting Toothless in his crosshairs. Because of this, he wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

“No, I'm pretty much gonna take the whole thing,” Hiccup seethed cupping his left hand near his mouth and made a passable imitation Night Fury call.

At the call, Dagur whipped around to face the other Viking confusion clearly visible in those narrowed green eyes. With his back turned, the Berserker missed Toothless bounding onto of the boulder he had previously been using as a shield. Dagur whirled back around when he heard the same Night Fury howl coming from behind to find a dragon staring him down. This time, the Night Fury let out a heated roar directed at the man before leaping over his head and gliding across the clearing.

Toothless landing on the ground behind Hiccup, yet in front of Jackson, which had the Berserker’s mouth falling open when the auburn haired teenager didn’t even flinch with a dragon at his back. His eyes becoming impossible wide when he took noticed of the saddle on the Night Fury’s back.

“Is that a-”

“-saddle? Yes, Dagur. That's exactly what it is,” Hiccup cut the arrogant man off bringing beady green eyes back to his person.

“So, I was-“

“-right all along,” Hiccup agreed as he mounted Toothless, his prosthetic clicking into pace as he shifted the mechanical tailfin opened in case they needed to make a fast exit. “We do not hunt dragons on Berk. We ride them.”

“You're father lied to… _YOU_ lied to me!” Dagur screamed in betrayal waving his arms in the air as he stalked closer to the dragon and his rider. Toothless roared and whirled around to face the deranged madman directly, teeth bared.

“He was trying to keep the peace between our tribes. So was I,” Hiccup explained softly, his voice going back to his original state as wrestled his warring emotions back under control. Discreetly, he scooted forward in the saddle and to give Jackson enough room to get on behind him.

“By making a fool out of _ME?!_ ” the Berserker chief raged throwing his crossbow to the ground.

“You don't need a lot of help with that Dagur,” Jackson allowed the disdainful he felt for the man to coat his every word as he glared over the Dragon Rider’s shoulder at the redhead.

Being insulted by what he believed as a slave, the Viking immediately went to pull his broadsword out, but froze as Toothless another – more ferocious – snarled.

“Your move,” Hiccup growled out threateningly, just as pissed off as the Night Fury that Dagur dared to threaten Jackson.

“You could've been my brother, Hiccup!” the redhead shook his head, taken back by the way – what he believed to be – the great honor of being his brother was thrown back into his face. Dagur’s whole demeanor changed at the slight on his horror and aggression took hold of his whole body. “Now, you're my _enemy_.”

“Have it your way, but remember: We have the dragons, and we are not afraid to use them,” the auburn haired Viking shrugged, not caring in the slightest at the threat. Leaning over, he rubbed Toothless between his ear-plates to let him know they were ready. “Let's get out of here, Bud.”

Toothless gave one last growl and took to the sky with both passengers safely on his back. Hiccup intended for them to join the other Dragon Riders and leave the deranged Viking behind him. Dagur however, wasn’t going to have that. The Berserker’s growing anger finally reached its peak.

Detaching a bola from his belt, he hurled it with deadly accuracy at the Night Fury. The weapon snagged the dragon’s tailfins, binding them closed which threw Toothless’s balance off and they immediately began to loss altitude. The dragon thrashed about, attempting to stay in the air which was a struggle for Hiccup to stay in the saddle even with his harness on. It was impossible for Jackson.

“Jackson!” the auburn haired Viking shouted when he felt the arms around his waist slip away and turned in time to see amber eyes widen as the teenager fell.

Toothless dove down despite his own difficulties without Hiccup’s command, trying to catch the falling brunet. However, another bola wrapped around the Night Fury’s whole body, binding his wings and paws to his body while sending dragon and rider crashing to the ground. A third bola had Toothless’s immobilized as it wrapped the dragon’s mouth, preventing him from blasting his way to freedom.

Dagur didn’t let up and screamed out a battle cry, running towards the downed dragon with his broadsword drawn. He was a foot away from sinking steel into flesh, when Jackson came out of nowhere and rammed his shoulder into the charging Berserker. The impact was enough to send both of them tumbling to the ground and dislodge the broadsword for Dagur’s grip.

As the two tumbled to the ground with Jackson on top, Dagur used the momentum to kick the brunet and flipped him onto his back in one motion. Having knocked the wind out of the Druid, he quickly regained his feet and collected his discarded crossbow within seconds. This time when Dagur went for the kill shot, he was hindered by Hiccup. The Dragon Rider put himself in between the two and used his shield to deflect the bolt off to the side.

Grinning manically, Dagur swilled around on his feet and leveled the crossbow at the defenseless dragon. When he pulled the trigger, there was a useless clicking that turned his triumphant grin into a frown. Only then did he notice had run out of bolts. In the amount of time it took him to reload the weapon, Hiccup used his shield like a throwing discus to disarm the Berserker.

Beady green eyes snapped to the unarmed auburn haired teenager and made a show of pulling a few daggers out of his belt. Dagur hurled several of them at the Dragon Rider, only for them to be blocked by Jackson when he dove in between the two with the shield as his only protection. How the Druid had managed to catch his breath, let alone retrieve the shield and get between the two of them in the short period of time was truly astounding. Especially without either Hiccup or Dagur noticing him; nevertheless, Hiccup was not about to question it. Not while the Berserker was occupied with tossing dagger after dagger at the two.

Toothless, despite his tussled up state, wasn’t about to allow his rider to come to harm and used his tail as a whip, landing a glancing blow. The strength behind the unexpected assault sent Dagur sailing forward and skidding across the hard ground. He landed only feet away from his crossbow and when beady green eyes landed on the weapon, it spurred him into action. Rolling to the side, the redhead latched onto the weapon and fumbled to string a bolt.

Seeing what precious little time they had, Jackson shoved their only line of defense into Hiccup’s hands and drew a blade out of his boot. “Here, take this and draw his attention. I’ll free Toothless.”

“What?” the Dragon Rider barely managed to get a grip on the shield before surging forward to wrapped his right arm around Jackson. Just in time for to deflect the bolt Dagur had fired downward with his shield, keeping it from going through the unaware target’s heart.

“Your move, Hiccup,” the Berserker chief’s mocking had the auburn haired Viking’s arms relaxing from around the tense Druid.

“Right, you get Toothless, I’ll distract him,” Hiccup whispered, maneuvering so Jackson was no longer in between him and his shield but behind him instead. The two looked at each other and with a cruet nod, both darted out in different directions. In the momentarily confusion, Dagur didn’t know which one of them to fire at and instead ended up hitting the ground where they had been moments prior. The diversion gave Hiccup enough time to hide behind a tree while Jackson used his velocity to run up the flat rockface of a boulder. His fingers were able to grip the ledge’s edge before hauling himself up and out of view.

Peeking out from behind the tree, vivid green caught sight of Toothless beating his tail against the ground as he squirmed in an attempt to free himself from the bolas. Yet with the redheaded man standing a few feet to the dragon’s side, the Dragon Rider was spotted straightaway. A newly reloaded crossbow fired another bolt and Hiccup narrowly avoid a few more of Dagur's bolts by using the tree as cover. He flinching each time another thud reached his ears while the tree quivered against his back from the impacts.

“You can't hide forever!”

Taking a deep breath, the Viking of Berk came out from behind the safety of the tree. “I don't plan to.”

Even as he spoke, Hiccup caught a glance of the shadowy figure belonging to Jackson sneaking up behind Dagur. The brunet’s blade clenched carefully in between teeth while he kept low to the boulder and crawled across the top. Green eyes darted back to the rampant Berserker to prevent giving Jackson’s position away. After all, he needed to be a distraction.

Holding out the shield at arm’s length, the Dragon Rider pressed the hidden mechanism on the side of the metal. Immediately, the center hub sprang forward while the sides folded out to the sides and the back two panels launched outwards to form a V-shape.   The new configuration of the shield may have looked awkward but it was clearly a makeshift crossbow.

Pulling one of Dagur’s bolts from the tree, Hiccup stung the arrow and hastily fired at the Berserker without aiming. The redhead, having witnessed the transformation of the shield and the stringing of the bolt, had ample enough time to jump out of harm’s way and into a bush for cover.

“Nice try, brother,” Dagur taunted, his head bursting out from behind the bush which unluckily enough was under the tree Jackson was currently using to climb down from the boulder. On the other hand, they were lucky enough the man’s own voice covered the creaking of the branch as the burnet leaped from the boulder and into the tree. Hiccup saw Jackson almost fall when the branch he was on fractured under his weight, but the Druid moved quickly enough to another – sturdier – branch before it could completely break. However, that gave Hiccup an idea.

“Oh, and by the way, I'm not your brother!” the auburn haired Viking smirked, pressing the hidden mechanism on his shield once more triggering the shield clasp back into its original form. He then aimed the hub at the branch right above the Dagur’s head. Pressing another button on the opposite side of the first, a grappling hook blasted out of the hub to wrap around the limb.

“Ha-ha-ha! You missed!” the redhead ridiculed, missing the smirk on Hiccup’s facing becoming just a tad bit smug.

“Did I?” the Dragon Rider ask before yanking the shield back and pulling the grappling line taunt. The force was enough to finish the job Jackson had unintentionally started and the branch broke off. With a stratifying crack, it dropped down on top of the Berserker and trapped him underneath the heavy weight.

Despite being pinned, the Dagur wasn’t silenced. “I have GOT to get me one of those ornate shields!”

“You do that,” Jackson said from behind a freed Toothless. “We’ll be leaving now.”

Seeing Hiccup mount the Night Fury, the Berserker’s rage overwhelmed him, giving him the strength he needed to push the tree branch to the side. He was on his feet and charging the group as the brunet climbed on behind the auburn haired Viking. Scooping up his fallen broadsword, Dagur raised the weapon high above his head. A well-aimed, low level plasma blasted from Toothless flung the sword out of deranged Viking’s hands. Another blast sent him over the edge of the cliffs and into the water below.

“Do you think he survived?” Jackson asked after a moment of silence when the Berserker failed to resurface.

“DRAGON ATTACK! _DRAGON ATTACK!_ ”

“I’d say that is a resounding yes,” Hiccup answered, not sure if he was glad he hadn’t killed the man or disappointed Dagur had survived. Either way, the chief’s survival meant the Hairy Hooligan Tribe was most likely now at war with the Berserker Tribe and he didn’t want to stick around to find out what they would do.

Shifting his foot, Toothless’s tailfin spread-out and the Night Fury pushed off, taking to the skies. It took a second for him to gain his bearings before veering off to the right in the direction of Berk.

“I hate to say it, but I have to admit you were right,” the Druid spoke up from behind Hiccup when he was sure they were safe. “Dragon Island is full of wild creatures, well creature. At least the dragons are nice.”

Hiccup couldn’t help it, he laughed. “Yeah, there some deranged creatures out there.”

“You guys alright?” Astrid voice came from above triggering the auburn haired teenager’s head to jerk upwards. There, flying above them, was the rest of the dragons with their riders.

“What are you guys still doing here?” the Head of the Academy questioned, eyes darting from one Dragon Rider to the next. All of them looked to be in the same condition as they had been before the night had begun. The night had been kind to them it would seem; unlike it had been to him.

“We were waiting for you,” Snotlout scoffed, bringing Hookfang to fly next to the Night Fury on the right. “What do you think we were doing?”

“How’d it go?” the heavyset blond tentatively asked from the other side of the Monstrous Nightmare.

Sighing, Hiccup shook his head and would have slumped down into the saddle if the brunet wasn’t sitting behind him. “We might be in for a war with the Berserkers.”

“Awesome!” Tuffnut and Ruffnut exclamations came from below and the chief’s son had to lean over to see the Hideous Zippleback flying a little bit ahead of him a few yards down.

“That bad huh?” Astrid brought Stormfly up on Toothless’s left. Her face scrunched together in concern.

“He knows Berk trains dragons now,” Hiccup sighed, shaking his head.

“That…is not good,” Fishlegs gulped, glancing back at the disappearing island behind him.

“No, it’s not,” the shieldmaiden agreed, hands tightened on the horn of her saddle. “We better tell your father.”

“I thought you’d say that,” the teenager moaned dejectedly, head hanging low.

“Come on, we can take them!” Snotlout cajoled thrusting his fist in the air.

“Not today. Dagur will be back, and when he is, we'll be ready,” the Head of the Academy said look out to the darken sky around them. He gave the Dragon Riders another once over to reassure himself they were all okay. However, it was then he noticed the dragons weren’t only carrying their riders. “What do the dragons have?”

“ _Apparently_ , they went hunting and they aren’t about to give up their haul,” Astrid grumbled, looking down at the gigantic bear in Stormfly’s talons.

“Hey, I told you the dragons were hunting!” Jackson spoke up for the first time since the other Dragon Riders appearance; amber eyes fixating on the two deer in Hookfang’s jaws.

“That doesn’t explain why ours has mouthfuls of plants,” Tuffnut gripped, pointing his finger out to Barf’s and Belch’s heads where they were indeed filled to the brim with all kinds of greenery.

“Maybe they’ve become vegetarians?” the slender brunet offered with a sheepish grin.

“Thankfully Meatlug didn’t indulge in such silly behavior,” Fishlegs bragged patting the Gronckle on the head.

“Don’t be so sure of that,” Ruffnut cackled directing the heavyset teenager’s attention the Boulder-class dragon’s mouth which was bulging with rocks.

“Meatlug!”

“Hey, did any of you happen to find my cloak and staff by chance?” Jackson suddenly asked, looking around at the group of dragons for any sign of blue material.

“Oh yeah,” Tuffnut exclaimed his whole face lighting up as if he remembering something, which he was. Leaning back, he pulled out both items from his saddlebag. Hiccup nudged Toothless’s side and they dipped down to fly over to the two-head dragon’s side.

“Thanks,” the Druid smiled reaching out to retrieve the bundled up cloak tied to his staff. He almost fell off while leaning over but Hiccup’s hand whipped out and grabbed ahold of the back of his own vest to keep the brunet from sliding off. Jackson was hauled back into the saddle but he still able to grab ahold of his things. Settling back into the saddle, Jackson untied the cloak from his staff and unfolded the material. He had to bite back a grin at what else was inside.

Looking over at the twins, amber eyes caught those light blue eyes belonging to Ruffnut. “Hey, why did you tie the cloak to the staff in such a way?”

“We found it like that,” the blonde waved her hand in a weird gesture. “It was balancing on a rock.”

“I thought so,” Jackson whispered to himself as he looked down at the multiple orbs of light tinkering up at him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of Dagur for now. Thankfully. He's hard to write.


	14. Curiosity Tolls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, a whole lot of you really want to punch Dagur in the face. I guess I did a better job of writing him than I thought. 
> 
> Also, I thank the many of you who reviewed. You really don't know how excited I get to read each and every review.
> 
> As for Kaeberlily, you're the first to assume correctly that I'm planning to follow the show for a bit. However, I will be diverting the plot and throwing some of my own twists into the story because of Jack's involvement in the past.

“How was the training exercise? Crossing Dragon Island in the middle of the night, right?” was the greeting Hiccup when he staggered through the front door.

Looking up, green eyes blinked slowly as his sluggish brain worked to process the sight before his eyes. Sitting in a large tastefully carved wooden chair was an equally large man, full of muscle and the picturesque Viking. His long, wild red hair was accompanied by a smooth mustache tied with twines and an equally wild beard, the ends of which were done in various small braids. What could be seen of the Viking’s face beneath all the red hair was pale, scarred skin that surrounded light green eyes over a large nose.

The man wore a long dark green tunic down to his ankles with scalemail armor bound by a studded leather belt and ornate metal belt buckle. Over the top of that, multiple brown furs were draped while leather arm bracers with metal studs encased thick muscles of the redhead’s forearms. A small helmet with large horns rested regally on his head. A helmet which matched the one currently sitting up in Hiccup’s room.

“Yeah, Astrid’s idea,” the tired auburn haired teenager answered his father between yawns.

“I figured,” Stoick chuckled nodding his head as he fiddled with an axe that was clearly broken given the handle was in one meaty hand and the metal blade in the other. “Was it as bad as the claw-to-hand combat?”

“Worse,” Hiccup groaned flopping down into the chair across the table from the chief and began unlacing his boot. He knew he was procrastinating, yet at the same time, the Dragon Rider was also trying to figure out a way to soften the blow. “We ran into a problem. Literally we _ran_ into a problem.”

“What kind of problem? A dragon problem? Or a twin problem?” Stoick inattentively asked absorbed with trying to shove the two pieces of the weapon back together with little success.

Taking a deep breath, the teenager laid his head down upon his crossed arms on the table. “A potential war kind of problem?”

“Hiccup, this is no time for jokes,” the Chief of Berk gritted out as he tried once more to force the other end of the wood rod back on the axe.

“Dagur the Derange was on Dragon Island,” the muffled words were spoken in a flat voice. He winced when he heard the clatter of the axe head falling to the ground but that didn’t stop the rest of the words from tumbling out of his mouth. “He now knows we train dragons and he wasn’t too happy when he figured out we lied to him. Saw it as a betrayal.”

“By the gods! _Hic~cup_ ,” the Viking stressed out his son’s name causing the teen to stiffen and finally picked his head up from off the table to find his father standing, looking down at him with a hard look in his eyes. “Explain. _Now_.”

“We tried our best to keep it a secret. Even went so far as to pretending we were on Dragon Island to hunt dragons,” the Dragon Rider rushed to reassure his father. Two bushy red eyebrows scrunched together in the way that let him know the chief was listening and didn’t like what he was hearing. “However, I couldn’t keep the sham up when he was about to kill Toothless-” said dragon grumbles and rubs his head against his rider’s side, which had Hiccup glancing down and petting the dragon between his ear-plates “-I couldn’t let anything happen to him.”

“You made the right choice,” Stoick spoke softly as he sat back into the chair he while his son’s head to shoot up and stared at him in disbelief.

Green eyes widened as they looked into soft understanding green eyes of a lighter shade. “Really?”

“You were faced with the difficult decision of maintaining the treaty with the Berserkers or breaking it to save one of your own. As chief, those are the kind of hard decisions I’ve had to make countless times. The toughest of which was choosing between saving a fellow shieldbrother and risking upheaval or maintaining an accord while sacrificing a shieldbrother,” Stoick nodded his eyes shimmering at long ago memories of his own experiences. Yet the pride he felt for his son was clearly there as well.

“And you choice your shieldbrother,” the auburn hair teenager hazard a guessed.

“No.”

Hiccup could not stop his jaw from dropping open. His ears had to be deceiving him. There was no way what he was hearing was what Stoick the Vast was saying. It didn’t sound anything like his father at all. However, the pained faraway look in the chief’s eyes told his son there was more to the story than that.

“I regret that decision every day, but that is in the past now. Now we have to worry about our current situation. Were any of the others hurt during the altercation?”

“No, no one was hurt,” the Head of the Academy assured the chief, yet his mind was fixated on speculating what Stoick had done in the past. “Well other than Jackson’s pride. I have a feeling he wouldn’t let me forget calling him a slave. _Ever_.”

“Jackson?”

“Yeah, he was pretty amazing. He helped me free Toothless when Dagur was able to take him down with a bola and then distract the man enough for us to get away. I have never seen anyone move the way he does and he acts like it is nothing,” Hiccup explained, his mind no longer on his father’s past and focusing instead on his memories of the Druid.

A thoughtfully expression crossed the chief’s face. “Jackson, he’s the boy that’s living with Gobber now, right? He was the one that washed ashore with Toothless during the glacier?”

“Uh, yeah,” green eyes narrowed trying to figure out what he was getting at. However, Stoick was once again fiddling with the wooden rod to his axe and wouldn’t meet his eyes. When nothing came about, Hiccup decided it was time to hit his bed and get a little sleep. He had a long night and he wasn’t awake enough for this. Pushing his chair back, the teenager supported some of his weight on Toothless when his bad leg buckled.

“I want to meet him,” Stoick suddenly spoke up before his son could take even two steps away from the table. Hiccup’s leg buckled again when he tried to turn around too fast. “Invite him over for supper.”

“What?” the teenager spluttered not knowing where the request came from. He wasn’t sure if Jackson would come over. During the short period of time he had gotten to know the Druid, Hiccup noticed the brunet tended to shy away from hordes of people with the exception of crowds of children. “Uh, sure, I can ask him to come over.”

“Good, I expect to see him tonight,” Stoick curtly nodded his head once and grabbed his boots at the foot of the chair. He proceeded to lace up his boots and stood up, ready to leave. “Well, I’m off; I have to go check in with Spitelout. He’s keeping an eye some of the flocks of sheep since a number of them have been disappearing under mysterious situations-” which explained why he was up this late at night “-oh, and take me axe down to the forge and see if you can fix it.”

With that, the Chief of Berk was out the door.

“What just happened there?” Hiccup questioned his lucidity. He had been fully prepared for his father to explode when he heard about Dagur and the broken treaty. He had not been expecting Stoick the Vast to be as understanding as he had been and to top it off, his father went ahead and threw the Dragon Rider further for a loop by expecting Jackson to come over for dinner.

Toothless let out a gurgle, one of his ear-plates standing up while the other was cocked to the side.

“Yeah, I’m not too sure either.”

* * *

Jack yawned as he made his way through Berk and to Gobber’s stall. His staff was currently making an excellent walking stick to guide him through the village with half closed eyes. The late night adventure was taking its toll on his body with the continued lack of sleep. He and the Dragon Academy members had arrived back at Berk around two in the morning and while they were tucked away in their beds still sleeping, the ex-spirit had gotten up at dawn. Jack liked to think being up wasn’t his choice, but it was.

The brunet had made a promise to Gobber to prep the forge for the day well before Astrid had devised her training drill. He shouldn’t have gone with the Dragon Riders or at the very least he should have told the blacksmith he wouldn’t be able to keep his promise. However, when Jack Frost made a promise, he would do everything to keep said promise and wasn’t about to break his promise to the Viking blacksmith. Neither was he about to back down from going to Dragon Island, especially since Hiccup didn’t want him to go.

So, here Jack was, lethargically making his way to the smithy with the sun rising in the distance while Gobber was somewhere with Mulch and Bucket sleeping off their mead induced hangovers. When all the immortal teenager really wanted to be doing was snuggling under his blankets and furs in the loft he had claimed for his own in Gobber’s hut. Not that he actually slept there last night anyways.

No, Jack had slept at the blacksmith stall since that was as far as his feet had taken him when Hiccup had dropped him off at the smithy. He was only outside now because Grump had needed to be feed and the Guardian didn’t think the drunken Vikings would remember. It was the price he paid for keeping his promise while also tagging along with the Dragon Riders.

Once back in the blacksmith’s stall, Jack quickly spotted the pile of herbs and berries on the workbench. They were the ones he collected from Barf and Belch the night before and set aside before he tumbled in the pile of furs off in the corner for a quick rest only to fall asleep within seconds. Yet, even in his exhausted state, he noticed there were a few differences in the pile from when he had fallen asleep until now.

First was the fact the herbs had been dried out. Second, the berries had been preserved. Foremost though, was the soft snoring coming from within the greenery which hadn’t been there before. The occasional flicker of light in one of four different colors was odd, but it didn’t surprise the Jack.

Fondly shaking his head at the Wyldfae, the ex-spirit went about stroking the fire in the forge back to life to warm the small space. Once he was no longer shivering, he went ahead and took off his cloak. Gently gathering up the four faeries – buried underneath the leaves and using berries as pillows – into the fur lined blue material, Jack wrapped the cloak around them like a sleeping bag and placed the makeshift bed onto one of the higher shelves.

The Guardian didn’t want them being disturbed. Neither did he want them to get hurt by mistake with all the iron laying about. That would be a disaster. One which might very well happen with sleep deprived faeries and ex-spirits alike stumbling around a blacksmith’s stall.

When they were safely tucked away, Jack turned with every intention of getting the forge set up for the day. His foot had other ideas as it rammed into something solid and heavy.

“Ouch,” the brunet grumbled softly more out of reflex than out of any real pain. Looking down at what had gotten in his way, amber eyes blinked a few times to make sure he was seeing correctly. The image of Hiccup’s shield resting against the workspace never wavered. “What’s this doing here?”

Reaching down, he was surprised when he lifted piece of round metal up without any resistance. The shield was a whole lot lighter than the Guardian had anticipated. After witnessing the large metal disk in action last night, he knew the thing had taken some serious abuse and with three hundred years of knowledge crammed into his brain, the ex-spirit had a very good inkling what the shield should have looked like after the beating it took. Yet, other than dirt and the leather strap having come undone – which was probably why Hiccup had left it here last night, to fix the strap – there was nothing wrong with the shield.

“What’s your secret?” Jack asked the black and red painted outline of Toothless.

There was no answer – not that he had been expecting any – just the sun’s rays reflecting off the muted surface of the metal. The light reminded him he didn’t have the time to figure out the shield’s secrets and with a heavy heart, the Druid set the shield back down where he had found it and went about brining log after log in from the pile outside to stack them by the forge inside.

“Jackson!” a high pitched voice shouted as the brunet made his fourth trip outside. Turning towards the voice, the Guardian found a small green-eyed dark haired child wearing a black furred tunic and ragged pants, toting a dented scuffed up pot in his direction.

“Good morning, Terrorthi,” the brunet greeted the child he had helped saved on glacier. Even now he counted his lucky stars that the girl hadn’t fallen into the glacier with him and Toothless, there was no telling what the Dream Pirates would have done to the innocent child. “What can I do for you today?”

“Ma sent you some more food. It’s my favorite, boar stew,” Terrorthi explained, uncovering the pot and revealing a thick and hearty stew which was no doubt tough and tasteless like all of the other meals the girl’s mother had sent him.

“Tell her thank you for me. She didn’t have to go through all the trouble,” Jack informed the child. He was a little uncomfortably at the attention Terrorthi and her family had showered on him for saving her. To hide his discomfort, the ex-spirit busied himself by collecting another armful of logs and headed into the stall. The tiny child tottered behind him and set the steaming stew down on one of the few clear surfaces.

“Ma says you’re too skinny and need to eat more. Da says I have more meat on my bones than you do.” Green eyes darting around the smithy with unbridled interest, her hands twitching at her side but she was hesitant to touch anything. Amber eyes did not miss the way the child was eying the dragons’ teeth mixed in with various scraps of metal.

“What can I say, I’m a hiccup,” Jack responded without a thought, dumping the last of the firewood on to the floor and crouched down to stack the logs into the neat pile he had already made.

“You’re not a hiccup!” the child quickly defended him from himself with such resounding conviction that had the Guardian looking over at the girl. He knew he shouldn’t laugh at her puffed out cheeks and hands placed on her hips, but Terrorthi’s angry stance was too adorable and he ended covering up the laughter with a fake sneeze.

“Terrorthi, there is no doubt that I’m a hiccup,” Jack told the girl with a smile on his face as he reached out to ruffle course dark hair.

“No you’re not,” Terrorthi corrected him, stomping her foot and the ex-spirit could no longer hold back his laughter.

“Let’s just agree to disagree,” the brunet compromise finished stacking the last of the wood.

“Fine,” the child grumbled and the Guardian could almost see a lightbulb appearing over the kid’s head. Her whole demeanor changed and she brightened up. “Oh yeah, Da heard from Muffnut the gods were with you on your hunting trip last night and you’re having Gruffnut skin and butcher in exchange for some of the meat.”

“Yeah, that’s right. I had Tuffnut and Ruffnut drop off what was caught at their brother’s,” Jack nodded vaguely remembering asking for the twins’ help. He was relieved to hear they had actually dropped the carcasses off at Gruffnut’s butcher and tannery stall and hadn’t done something else with them.

“Well, Da wanted to get some of the deer meat and he’s allowing me to ne-gat…neo-go… to barter with you for some,” Terrorthi proclaimed proudly as she struggled with the word negotiate. “We have chickens to trade!”

“Chickens, huh?” the ex-spirit changed the tone of his voice to match the child’s chipper attitude, making sure he sounded impressed when he could have careless. The girl appeared eager while the Jack feigned thinking it over. “Okay then. Tell your Da to go pick up one of the deer from Gruffnut later this evening. I’ll have a word with him when he comes by later today and he’ll have it waiting for you.”

“But don’t you want to argue back and forth about how many chickens you want in return? That’s how it’s done, right?” Terrorthi pouted, looking more than a little putout she wasn’t getting to negotiate with him.

“Yeah, Terrorthi, that is usually how it is done, but not today. Today all I want is an even pair of chickens and for you to take half of them to Snotlout and the other half to Astrid in return for the venison. Sounds fair? Or do you want to argue more?” Jack quirked his eyebrow up and gave the child a meaningful look.

“No,” the girl shook her head back and forth vigorously. “That’s fair… I think?”

The brunet closed his eyes and smiled down at Terrorthi. “Good, now how about you run along and finish the rest of your chores for today, kay?”

“Kay,” the child parroted and Jack couldn’t keep from ruffling the adorable little girl’s hair again. “Don’t to forget to eat your stew.”

With that Terrorthi skipped out of the stall, humming gleefully as she went. Only when the girl was out of sight did Jack warily eye the pot with distain. Searching for a spoon, the ex-spirit was disappointed when he found one. Still, he stirred the thick stew and filled his spoon with a good size portion before taking a bite.

Cringing at the lack of taste, Jack set the spoon down and sifted through the dried herbs on the next table. Finding the ones he wanted, the immortal teenager crushed up some marjoram and thyme and dropped them into the pot. He stirred the herbs in before taking another bite. This time he didn’t cringe immediately and instead slowly chewed the piece of meat before nodding his head.

“Not that bad,” the brunet commented to himself and grinned. Adding more of the spices to make it even tastier, he began eating the stew in earnest.

“Hey, you Jackson?” a gruff voice called out startling Jack to the point that he almost dropped his pot of stew and had to fumble to keep ahold of the warm metal. Having not lost any of the stew, the Guardian let out a heavy sigh and set the pot down before he did drop it. Facing the owner of the voice, Jack found the twins’ older brother lugging a huge chunk of meat over his shoulders and a few pelts hanging over his left arm.

“Yeah,” the ex-spirit nodded as he unconsciously picked up his staff with his left hand and began fiddling with it.

“Ruff-Tuff gave me your haul from last night,” the man slammed the large chunk of meat down on the table causing the pot of stew to rattle from the sheer force. He then threw two pelts towards Jack who caught one with his right hand and hooked the other one with his staff. “Here’s your portion, I’m keeping the rest as a payment for my work.”

“Fair,” he agreed while inspecting the pelts. After all, Gruffnut had skinned, gutted, and cut up the carcasses on top of him going to have to tan the hides, since Jack knew the two pelts weren’t the same ones from the dragon’s hunting trip. The two currently in his possession were already tanned and ready for use, making it impossible to be from the catches last night. Not that he minded; it was one less thing he had to deal with. “But I traded some venison to Terrorthi–”

“Yeah, already taken care of; the brat came by and told me what was going on,” Gruffnut cut the brunet off.

“Oh…well, isn’t this a little too much then?” Jack eyed the huge piece of meat on the table. If he had to guess, there was a whole deer worth of meat there.

“No,” was the short and to the point reply which cutoff anything else the ex-spirit could have said.

“Um, well then, could you take some of the meat to Ingermans and some to the twins for their dragons’ help?” the Guardian probed, wondering what he would do with the rest of the meat. He was eating two meals a day now and he wouldn’t be able to even make a dent in the meat before it went bad. A bright idea then hit him at what he could do with the rest. “Oh, and the rest can go to the chief as a tribute?”

Eying the Druid, Gruffnut seemed to be sizing him up, searching for something which only had Jack twitching under the intense gaze. He must have found what he was looking for; since the muscular man gave a nod of what the Guardian hoped was approval. Gruffnut drew his sword out from the scabbard at his side and slashed it down with one strong swing, cutting through the meat with ease. The swift movement and loud sound had Jack jumping from the unexpected action.

“I’ll take the meat to the Ingermans and my siblings, but you’ll have to give your tribute to the chief yourself,” the man slung the larger chuck of meat up onto his shoulders once more and walking away without another word.

“O~kay… that was different; a little disturbing but different,” the teenager shrugged his shoulders and regarded the hefty chuck left. “What am I going to do with this in the mean time?”

With no answers forthcoming, Jack searched for a place to keep the meat for the time being and went back to his meal when it was safely stored away. He ate most of the stew yet there was no way he could finish it all. Taking the pot with only dregs of broth and a few pieces of meat, the ex-spirit placed the pot next to his cloak on the shelves and probed the fabric. A low chime came from inside and four tiny Dewdrop Faeries pushed back the fabric while rubbing their eyes.

“I thought you guys might like some food before it got cold,” the brunet told the half asleep faeries. Periwinkle – the one most awake of the bunch – slow took to the air, flying in a not so straight line in order to pat him on his nose. Amber eyes watched the little Wyldfae’s path and smiled brightly at her little chimes of thanks. “You’re welcome. Just make sure everyone is more awake before you guys return to Pixie Hollow, there is a bunch of iron around here and I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Silvermist let out an elongated chime, which the Guardian took to mean she understood before turning his attention back to the forge. As of yet, there were no customers and it didn’t look like there would be any in the near future which left in with some free time. He used the time to organize the various workspaces as much as possible. Jack started by cleaning up Hiccup’s work area followed by the one he had claimed for himself, since Gobber’s space was beyond hope.

It didn’t take him too long and soon his eyes were examining the shop for something else to do which was when he noticed Hiccup’s shield for the second time. Glancing around him to make sure there wasn’t anyone else in the vicinity. The immortal teenager cautiously walked over to the taunting piece of metal. One more glance at his surroundings and Jack reached down and picked up the shield. Turning the metal this way and that, the ex-spirit examined the disk in hopes of finding its secrets.

“Hey, loser!” Snotlout’s loud and obnoxious voice pierced though Jack’s body. Under normal circumstances, the Guardian would have ignored the stocky Viking. However, seeing how he was presently messing with Hiccup’s shield without permission, the brunet ended up dropping the piece of metal as if it had just come out of the forge.

“Gah! Why do you Vikings like sneaking up on me?! You’re Vikings for Odin’s sake, not _ninjas!_ ” Jack cursed, whirling around to glare at Snotlout and apparently Fishlegs too. His ire quickly dissipated to be replaced with perplexity when he was met with two blank faces. It took him a moment to realize he hadn’t spoken in Old Norse but English. Rubbing the back of his head with the crook of his staff, the immortal teenager laughed tensely and switched to the correct language. “I mean… Hi, what can I do for ya?”

Snotlout’s blank looked quickly morphed into that of his normal moody self. Eyebrows furrow, lips turn down, eyes narrowing.

“This,” the broad-shouldered Viking snarled, holding up a chicken, “and I’ve got two more at my house! And don’t you dare try to deny it wasn’t you’re doing. Terthi–”

“Terrorthi,” Fishlegs hesitantly corrected him. Yet, Snotlout kept right on going with his rant, raising his voice to speak over the blond haired Viking.

“–told me you were the one behind this. Are you trying to get me in trouble?” the raging teen continued raving, waving his free hand all around but never once disturbing the clucking chicken. At the end of his rant, he pointed an accusing finger at the ex-spirit.

“No?” the confused teenager blinked at the finger pointed in his face. He looked to Fishlegs for some help but the other Viking was too busy cowering behind the raging brunet to be of any help. Rolling his eyes, the immortal teenager shrugged not really caring. “Look, if you don’t want them, I’ll take them back. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“You don’t see the big deal?” Snotlout repeated his voice low and devote of emotions before it exploded outwards and he stormed around in circles. “It is a big deal! They’re Gothi’s chickens! You had her niece steal her chickens and put them in my yard! I don’t want to be cursed!”

“First,” Jack snapped before reigning himself, having to grind his teeth to keep his own emotions in check. “I did not have Terrorthi steal anyone’s chickens. They’re Hookfang’s payment for the deer he caught last night. If they aren’t suitable, I’ll take them back and get something else. Second, why would you get cursed?”

The burnet Viking was too busy opening and closing his mouth without any sound coming out to answer for the Guardian to get an answer out of him. Instead, the equally stunned Fishlegs answered for the unusually silent teenager.

“The last person to steal one of her chickens’ eggs hasn’t spoken a word since that day,” the blond Viking spoke quietly, tugging at a patch of fur on his tunic as he gnawed on the bottom lip.

“Silent Sven,” the brawny Viking whispered, prompting the two Vikings to shuddering for unknown reasons to the ex-spirit.

“Did you really get Gothi to trade her chickens for venison?” Fishlegs inquired shifting his weight from foot to foot, his hands still occupied with the same patch of fur.

“Terrorthi said her parents wanted some venison and they were willing to trade some chickens for it. I just told her to get the meat from Gruffnut and to split the trade between Astrid and Snotlout since it was their dragons that actually did all the work. I don’t see the big deal, but if you really don’t want the chickens, I can get you something else,” Jack turned his attention to the stockier Viking wondering if he had somehow made a faux pass.

“ _NO!_ They’re my chickens. Hookfang did the work. They’re mine!” Snotlout snarled pulling the chicken to his chest and cradling it like it was the most exquisite thing in Berk. “My precious.”

“It is a big deal!” Fishlegs exclaimed at the same time, blabbering away. “Gothi’s chickens are infamous. They produce more eggs and hatch more chickens than any other chickens in all of the archipelago. To have Terrorthi trade some venison for three of her chickens, it’s just not done.”

“Well, now it is. Cause that’s what happened,” the ex-spirit waved the alarm off. If he hadn’t made a faux pass, he was fine. “So why are you here Fishlegs? I know you didn’t come with Snotlout.”

The blond Viking looked like he wanted to continue on with their previous subject, but ended up slouching in on himself and went with the change in conversation. “Gruffnut gave Mom the large chunk of venison from you and she wanted me to come over and see what you wanted in trade.”

“No trade needed. Just tell her it was Meatlug’s payment for her help,” Fishlegs opened his mouth but Jack didn’t allow him time to say anything. “Really, don’t worry about it.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” the heavyset Viking mumbled finally letting go of the abused fur.

“Yes, I am sure,” the Guardian was so close from sighing in exasperation yet he was able to keep the emotion out of his voice, “was there anything else I could help you with?”

“I… uh… was wondering what you were doing with Hiccup’s shield?” Fishlegs pointed to the shield the brunet had tried to conceal.

“You saw that, huh?” Jack scratching the side of his nose. When he was met with an unimpressed look, he let out a sigh, reached down and picked up the discarded shield. Upon looking up, he saw out of his peripheral view Snotlout had set the chicken on the surface of the table and was cooing at it. “Truth is: I was trying to figure out why it was so strong. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Oh, I know that!” the large Viking bounced excitedly on is feet. “The shield is made out of Gronckle Iron, which is a lot lighter than regular iron but a whole lot stronger and more durable as well.”

“Gronckle Iron? I’ve never heard of it,” the immortal teenager set the shield on the table to studying it a bit more. He wasn’t the only one, seeing that the chicken walk over to the piece of metal and stared down at her likeness in the reflective surface.

“Yeah, that’s because I kinda, sorta, invented it?” Fishlegs answer was more of a question than a statement. He hurried forward with a rushed explain when the tall brunet cocked his head to the side. “Really, Meatlug should be credited with inventing it, because she’s the one that made the metal.”

Jack was glad he had set the shield down or else he would have dropped it yet again. The ex-spirit slow turned to face the heavyset Viking, ignoring his own pounding heart and complete awe. He tried to say something; however, every time he opened his mouth, he couldn’t find the words. Taking a deep breath and letting it out; slowly, the brunet calmed himself down before attempting to speak again.

“Do you mean to tell me that this shield was begotten in the breath of a dragon?” the immortal teenager all but breathed out the words.

“In a way, I guess,” Fishlegs shrugged one shoulder, not sure of the Druid’s sudden change in demeanor, “Meatlug ate some rocks which created the metal Hiccup made the shield with.”

This time, Jack knew fully well he was speaking in his Native tongue. “By all things magic! How the–? I don’t–? Who–? _Gah!_ What is wrong with this place?! Magic is literally flowing all around and they are deliberately blind to it ALL! Why me? _Why?_ ”

Huffing at the sheer emotional outburst, the Guardian looked down from the ceiling and at the stunned and a little bit fearful face of the two Vikings. None of them were making any sound, too busy gawking instead. Even the damn chicken was staring at him.

“Do either of you two know the importance of a weapon created by or even burnished in the breath of a dragon?” the ex-spirit gritted out through clenched teeth in Old Norse.

“Uh, no?”

“Is this something to do with your Druid thing?” Snotlout cautiously asked, making sure there was a little distance between the chicken and the other brunet. If Jack wasn’t so worked up, he would have laughed at the Viking’s protectiveness over a chicken of all things.

“Yes,” the Guardian all but hissed. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly and explained as calmly as he could what had gotten him so worked up. “In my land, there has been two swords burnished in the breath of a dragon, both did incredible feats. Some terrible, but no less incredible feats; one was able to kill a king born from magic, The Once and Future King.”

“So, there’s nothing special about a sword being able to kill a person, king or not,” the broad-shouldered snorted, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms.

Glaring at the Viking – who shut up when hard amber eyes locked on to his own – Jack continued. “The other sword, Excalibur, was the sword of the Once and Future King and it could slay anything and I do mean _anything_. Living or undead, mortal or immortal.”

This time, Snotlout gulped. “It could kill a God?”

“Unless by some other means of magical intervention, than yes, Excalibur could very well kill a lesser god,” _and a spirit_ went unsaid by Jack. The Guardian had always been grateful Merlin had destroyed the blade made by Morgana, the blade which slayed King Arthur, and so had many of the other immortals. Not only could the sword eradicate their existence but it had also become tainted by killing the Once and Future King.

Fishlegs whimpered and held up his hand as if he was in class wanting to be called on. “Say if one ah… kinda, sorta um… had a sword make from Gronckle Iron and I don’t know, nicked themselves with it? Would that kill someone?”

“I don’t know; probably not. If there hasn’t been any affect since you cut yourself then I don’t think anything will happen,” the ex-spirit tilted his head to the side as he thought about the ramifications and then ran his hand through his messier than normal hair, making it even worse. “But I really don’t know.”

“Wouldn’t weapons forged by different species of dragons have magical abilities just as different as the dragon species?” a set of amber eyes and a set of light green eyes met Snotlout’s offhanded comment. “What? I pay attention. I’m not the like the twin deebs.”

“You know, he may be on to something there,” Jack rubbed the bottom of his chin with a thoughtful look on his face while Fishlegs was too busy goggling at the other Viking, not believing it was him who had come up with the theory. “All Creatures of Magic have their own unique attributes and abilities; it wouldn’t be a stretch if the different species of dragons imbedded different magical attributes into the metal. It would be something to try.”

“One problem there, the idiot doesn’t know how to make Gronckle Iron,” Snotlout jerked his thumb at the heavyset teenager and glaring as he muttered under his breath something about a sword he never got.

Head hanging low, Fishlegs, nodded his head in confirmation. “Snotlout’s right, I don’t know what Meatlug ate to make the Gronckle Iron. It was all an accident.”

“Doesn’t matter,” the Guardian shook his head causing both of the Vikings to look at him, “as long as a dragon willingly burnishes the weapons with their fire, their magic will be imbedded into the metal. Although, I will point out the materials used and the quality of the weapon will make a difference, and it won’t be Gronckle Iron exactly, but the magic will still be there. It’s just a question of how the magic will manifest.”

“Gronckles are Boulder-class dragons, I wonder if their durability was what manifested in Gronckle Iron,” the heavyset blond speculated, pulling out his little journal and charcoal pen from out of his tunic and began jotting down notes.

“That could be it,” Jack nodding, running his hand over the smooth metal of the disk and feeling no indentations. “Hiccup’s shield stood up to a great deal of abuse last night and has hardly a scratch on it. You might be on to something there, Fishlegs, can you tell me anything else about the different species of dragon?”

“Oh no,” the brunet Viking groaned, dropping his face into his hand.

“Could I ever!” Fishlegs all but squealed, literally jumping up and down in place. “I’ve read _The Book of Dragons_ , like ten times now and I’m helping Hiccup update it too! There are so many different dragon classes! Tidal, Strike, Sharp, Stoker, Fear–”

“Fishlegs, one at a time, one at a time,” Jack laughed, loving the blond Viking’s enthusiasm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, sorry, not much happened in this chapter. It's more of a bridge between the last chapter and the next one to come. Still, there was some foreshadowing going on.


	15. Vision of What Lies Below

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To KamiQueen: I don't have a tumblr but I'm all for your post about my story. Actually, I really appreciate it - Thank You! - because it shows me how much you like it and it makes me feel great. Again, thank you! 
> 
> To TheSenpaiWhoNoticedYou: Thanks for the idea for the tag. If anyone else has any suggestions for tags to make this story easier to find, please let me know. As for calling Jack an "ex-spirit," it's kind of like the Jackson vs. Jack thing. Only, in this case it is how Jack views himself, not as moral but no longer a spirit either. Thus, an ex-spirit.

Hiccup dragged his feet further and further away from his house, forcing his legs to move forward despite wanting to run in the other direction.

“Okay, I can do this. I can do this,” the young teenager tried to encourage himself as he approached his imminent doom. However, the pep talk wasn’t helping judging by the way he stopped in the middle of the road and threw his hands up into the air. “Who am I kidding? I can’t do this!”

Toothless wasn’t of the same opinion and gently rammed his head into his rider’s back. The dragon let out an irritated rumble as he pushing Hiccup forward.

“No Bud, I seriously can’t do this,” the chief’s son made an effort to escape from the persistence dragon and head back the way he came. Toothless – having expected his rider’s actions – shadowed Hiccup’s moments and effectively blocked the teenager before shoving him forward yet again.

Due to the futile nature of his escape plan due to the stubborn dragon, Hiccup attempted to reason with the Night Fury. “Besides, I don’t know where he is right now. How about we just go to the forge and fixed Dad’s axe for now, yeah? Then we’ll look for Jackson, that sounds like a plan; and you never know, he could turn up at the stall while we’re there and then we won’t have to go looking for him.”

Toothless let out a snort and shoved the blabbering Viking forward. Hiccup fought to stay where he was, his metal foot digging into the dirt, but the dragon had a lot more weight and strength to use against him and he ended up skidding forward despite his best attempts. A louder growl came from behind him and he was propelled forward by a much strong shove.

Rounding on Toothless, the Dragon Rider put on his best stern expression and locked eyes with acid green eyes. “Come on Bud, I am not asking Jackson over for dinner. You can forget it.”

However, the Night Fury was not to be dissuaded and took another step forward, forcing the young Viking to walk awkwardly backwards. Another step forward for the dragon, another step backwards for Hiccup and one step closer to his impending fate; a process was repeated over and over until the teenager ended up taking a wrong step and wound up falling on his ass. He sat there for a while, trying to figure out how this was his life.

“Toothless, what am I going to do? I can’t ask Jackson to dinner. I just can’t.” Hiccup propped his elbow up on his knee and rested his head on his hand. The dragon let out a small whine and bumped his head against the teenager’s lowered head. Toothless then licked his rider on the cheek who began laughing at the sensation. “I don’t know what to do.”

Sound of an explosion – one that could have only came from a dragon – had auburn hair flying about as Hiccup stared off in the direction of the source of the sound.

The booming voice of his father rose above the echoes of the blast. “Cut him off! Make sure he doesn't escape!”

“What was that?” the Dragon Rider tensed, using Toothless as a crutch to help him stand up.

He hadn’t had expected Dagur to attack so soon after the exploits in the night. In fact, he was sure it couldn’t have been the deranged Chief of the Berserker Tribe attacking; he wouldn’t have enough time to mount strike so soon. That left the Outcast Tribe as the only other tribe which currently held hostilities against the Hairy Hooligan Tribe.

It could very well be a wild dragon attack, but Hiccup had a feeling that it was an attack on Berk.

“Let’s go check it out.” Hiccup wasted no time swinging up into the Night Fury’s saddle and Toothless only waited long enough for his rider to open the mechanical tailfin before they were flying. From the air, the Dragon Rider was able to catch sight of a shadowy figure dashing through Berk. Following the blur of browns – and what could have been blond hair – Hiccup witness the person shoving people out of the way while knocking objects to the ground and scattering them about.

Green eyes caught sight of one of the twins running through the market place and a tap to Toothless’s side had the dragon flying low to the ground close enough to hear Tuffnut breathless comment.

“I didn't think he could move that fast,” the blond then yelled through cupped hands. “Hey, Astrid?! He's headed your way!”

“On it!” Hiccup vaguely heard the distance reply from the shieldmaiden as Stormfly soar after the blur heading in her direction. The Deadly Nadder rider must have said something to the dragon as tail spikes flared and shoot out, creating a barrier before the blur. The spine blockade was enough to halt the person and gave Hiccup his first good look at the blur Astrid, Tuffnut, and his father were all chasing.

Gobber turned on those chasing him, pointing his hook prosthetic at the chief stalking towards him. “I won't do it, Stoick, and you can't make me!”

“Uh, guys, what’s going on?” Hiccup asked, landing Toothless near the group of Vikings working on cornering the blacksmith.

“It’s Gobber’s monthly bath,” Tuffnut’s blue eyes avidly watching as the group closed in on the foul smelling man. His hands rubbing together in anticipation of the violence which was no doubt about to happen.

Hiccup, for his part, couldn’t believe he forgot it was Gobber’s monthly bath. He usually helped his father and the rest of the village corral the blond Viking seeing as no one could stand to smell him any longer. It had gotten easier when they had the dragons to help track them down, going from bi-yearly baths to monthly baths, but it usually still took the whole of the Academy to corral the sneaky Viking.

“None of you can make me!” Gobber screamed searching for a way out.

“Keep him surrounded!” Stoick ordered. However, the loud bark startled a nearby purple Terrible Terror from its sleeping spot in a upturned pot. The frightened dragon reacted on instinct and scrambling out of the way.

“A Viking is supposed to smell this way!” the blacksmith venomously argued defending himself by waving his left hook around widely. “It's a badge of honor!”

At that moment, the purple Terrible Terror – having crawled up the blacksmith for protection during the altercation – took one sniff of Gobber’s face and let out a distressed cry. The tiny little dragon attempted to escape, attempting to fly away. Yet even from Hiccup’s vantage point, he could see how unsteady the Terrible Terror wobbled in flight and ended up colliding with a stone pillar.

“Hurry!” Ruffnut yell had Hiccup’s ears ringing while his eyes were drawn in the direction of the well where he found the other Thorston twin busy at working pulling a bucket of water up with the help of Barf and Belch. “We've gotta get that tub filled, or else I’ll have to put up with the smell even longer!”

“It's for your own good, Gobber,” Stoick worked to appease his friend and drawing the auburn hair teenager’s back towards the arguing Vikings.

“Actually, it's for the good of the town,” the Head of the Academy dismounted and moved to stand by his father’s side. The proud look the chief shot Hiccup was enough made the teenager grin.

Jerking his hand towards the water trough, the chief gave a command to the blacksmith. “Get in the tub.”

When Gobber made no move to comply, Hiccup caught the eye of Astrid and motioned to his mentor. A discreet hand gesture to Toothless had the dragon inconspicuously making his way behind Gobber. The shieldmaiden’s eyes brightened finally catching on to what the auburn teenager was silently planning and gave a small tilt of her head to show she was onboard.

“I won't do it, Stoick.” Gobber waved his hook around threateningly at anyone who tried to move closer to him and missing the exchange going on between the Dragon Academy members.

“Now, Astrid!” Hiccup shouted purposely directing Gobber’s attention towards the Deadly Nadder rider. Taking her cue, Astrid nudged Stormfly to take flight straight up into the sky. At the same time, Toothless swatted his tail at the man, flinging him through the air. Although Gobber would latter deny it, he let out a girly scream as he sailed through the air and straight into the wooden trough.

“Ruffnut! Soap and water,” Stoick bellowed, stalking over to the tub and pushing the slightly dazed Viking back down. The blonde Viking waddled over to the tub with a bucket and threw the contents of the container at Gobber. Blue eyes clenched shut to keep water out yet they blinked open when less than a glassful of water wet his head and not much else.

Gobber let out a huge sigh of relief and sagged down into the trough.

“You're gonna have to do better than that,” the chief gave Ruffnut with a disapproving frown.

“I can't,” the blonde Viking frowned, looking into the empty bucket as if water would just appear and turning it upside-down over her head to get a better view. “There’s nothing else down there. The bucket I mean, not the well. Not that there’s anything else in the well either, because that’s empty too.”

“What?” one of the passing by villagers who had stopped to watch the antics that came with Gobber’s monthly baths blinked owlishly at the revelation.

“That can’t be,” another stated with wavering confidence. The rest of the gathered Vikings took that as an initiative to a mass wave of whispers and conjectures passing through the crowds tainted with a little bit of fear.

“Alright people, that’s enough. Gobber’s bath will have to be postponed until later,” Stoick hushed the crowd and waved the villager back, “go back to your every day jobs. I’ll take care of this. There is no need to panic.”

A little slower than average, the Vikings began to disperse and made their way back towards their shops or farms. A few of them lingering with glances towards the source of all their water, yet with one well-placed glare from the chief had them scampering away. Two children were the last to leave, Snuffnut waving to the twins while Terrorthi sent Hiccup a tentative smile which he returned.

The blacksmith – having climbed out of the makeshift tub – attempted to make a not so stealthily retreat since it seemed no one was paying him any attention. He would have been correct too, since the others had made their way over to the well. However, the dragons had not and both Toothless and Stormfly cutoff Gobber’s escape, herding him towards the group with a low-level plasma blast and a few spine shots into the ground at the older man’s feet.

“What was that for?” Astrid asked, coming to stand next to Hiccup. “What about Gobber’s bath?”

“We don’t want to cause any terror and fear in the villagers,” the chief instructed the Academy member.

“Awe man,” Tuffnut grumbled struggling to pull himself up onto Blech’s head. In retrospect, he should have probably had the dragon lower his head. As it was, the blond Viking ended up on his ass when his sister yanked at his vest.

“But where’s the fun in that?” Ruffnut moaned dropping the bucket onto Tuffnut’s head.

“We don’t want a riot on our hands,” the chief glared down at the twin. However, the Thorstons didn’t see it his way.

“Uh, yes we do,” the dreadlock Viking nodded his head as he struggled to pull the bucket off with little success. Stoick only gave the boy a quick passing glance as he yanked the bucket off the blond with one tug and began tying the well’s rope around the handle before lowering it down.

“No we don’t,” Astrid rebuffed, taking a threatening step towards the imbeciles. She knew the chief had very little patience for the twins on a good day and everyone kept worked to keep them out of his way on a bad day. Today, it would seem she was going to be the one to save the twins from the chief’s wraith.

Ruffnut scratched her head, just below her helmet. “I am pretty certain we do.”

“No, no you don’t or… or else,” Hiccup strove to dissuade the twins but he fell short when he couldn’t come up with something that would scare them. Everything he that came to mind was something a normal person would hate to do but Ruffnut and Tuffnut would undoubtedly enjoy.

“Or else what?” the twins asked together, sending shivers down the auburn haired teenager’s spine at the sheer eagerness coating their tones. Hiccup expected if Jackson were there, he probably persuaded them otherwise. For some reason, the Druid was more in tune with the twins and knew how to handle them. However, the thought of Jackson sparked an idea and a devious grin spread across the Head of the Dragon Academy’s face.

“Or else the villagers will riot and Jackson won’t have time to tell his stories because of the riot. Meaning you won’t be able to listen to them,” Hiccup’s grin grew more confident at the look upon the twins’ faces.

“No stories?” Tuffnut mouth hung open, blue eyes impossible wide. “But… but… but that will upset Snuffnut!”

“And when Snuffnut’s upset, Puffnut’s upset,” Ruffnut picked up where her brother left off, gnawing at her upper lip.

“And when Puffnut is upset, Ma is upset.”

“And when Ma is upset…” the words trailed off as the twins shared a look and shuddered. As one, the two surrounded Stoick and dropped to their knees at the large man’s feet, clenching the furs of his clothing into their shaking hands.

“Chief! Say there’s water! We need stories!” Tuffnut exclaimed burying his face into the brown furs, muffled snobs soon following.

“Yeah! We don’t want to see Ma upset!” his sister continued, rubbing her cheek against the soft fuzz. Stoick grimly glanced down at the two of them before turning his attention back to the bucket he had just finished pulling out of the well, which he promptly turned over.

Nothing came out.

“We just dug that well two summers ago,” Stoick took a few steps back – dislodging the Thorstons’ grasps on his clothing – and rubbed his hand down his beard. His son took his place and leaned over the side of the well to get a better look.

“Water doesn't just disappear,” Hiccup spoke softly, his voice bewildered as he stood back up. He gestured towards the well as he faced his father. “There has to be a reason.”

The chief sighed and looked to the heavens for answers. None came and his attention was brought back to the group of young teenagers standing before him, waiting for answers.

“We'll have to dig a new well. And until it's done, we'll have to ration water. Which means-”

“No more baths! Always a silver lining,” Gobber cried finally able to slip away from the two dragons which kept him cornered. The delight in his voice was evident as was the smell in Hiccup’s nose as his mentor pulled him into a one armed hug. Thankfully, the blacksmith let him go in favor of getting directly into the chief’s personal space and out of his own, allowing the young Viking to cough out the horrid stench and gasping for fresh clean air.

“Guys, I think this is something the Dragon Academy can help with,” Astrid brought up as the Head of said Academy stumbled over to her, wheezing and gagging at the smell lingering in his nose. “I think we better get the others.”

“Agreed,” Hiccup gasped out, using Toothless as a crutch. Only when he could breathe without being reminded of the awful smell did he look around. “By the way, where are the others?”

“I actually, don’t know,” the shieldmaiden frowned, crease blooming a crossed her forehead. “We were all supposed to help with Gobber’s bath today, but some people didn’t show up.”

A glare was pointed in his direction and the chief’s son had the decency to look ashamed.

“Well, Jackson’s at Gobber’s shop,” Tuffnut volunteered what he knew as he brushed off the dirt from his knees.

Hiccup briefly wondered when the Druid had become included in the Dragon Academy affairs but shook it off. That was a thought for another time, a time when they weren’t facing a potential crisis.

“What’s he doing at Gobber’s shop at this hour?” Astrid glanced over at the sun to judge the time. It was only a few candle marks after sunrise and everyone knew the blacksmith was usually busy in the mornings. No one went to the shop at this time of day because they knew it closed.

“He slept there, duh,” Ruffnut rolled her eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You were supposed to make sure he got to Gobber’s last night,” Hiccup lightly berated the two wondering why he and Toothless hadn’t just dropped the Druid off at his mentor’s hut last night himself.

The Night Fury rider then remembered Jackson had offered to deal with the dragons’ prizes from their hunting endeavors and since the twins agreed for Gruffnut to skin and process the meat. He had been so tired at the time he had asked the Thorstons to make sure the brunet got back to Gobber’s after they were done dealing with the animal meat. He should have known better.

“We did!” Ruffnut defended crossing her arms over her chest.

“We took him to Gobber’s shop,” Tuffnut added covering his mouth as he let out a large yawn.

Hiccup couldn’t hold back any longer, he gave in to the urge and slammed his head into his awaiting hand.

“He meant take him to Gobber’s hut,” Astrid corrected the twins’ assumptions, equally exasperated at them for their inability to _think_ for themselves.

“You should have been more clear then,” the blonde hair Viking snubbed the shieldmaiden, turning her nose up.

“You know what, let’s just forget it and head on over there,” the Head of the Dragon Training Academy rubbed the bridge of his nose. Silently, he asked the gods what he had done to deserve this. Thankfully, the others agreed and they mounted their dragons for the short ride over to the smithy. Toothless easily took the lead, guiding them straight to the blacksmith stall.

They arrived in minutes, landing next to Grump who pacing back and forth outside of the shop so slowly he appeared to be sleepwalking. There were a few children running around and playing with the easy going dragon, the only indication he gave the young Viking was the twitching of his tiny ear-wings. However, despite the noisy children, the four Dragon Riders could hear the arguing voices of their two missing Academy members wafting out from inside the stall.

“No, no, no,” Snotlout’s loud overbearing voice boomed out of the smithy. “Obviously, a Monstrous Nightmare’s fires would cause any blade to flame up.”

“And I would have to disagree with you there,” Fishlegs usually quiet and non-confrontational voice followed after, yet it was anything but quiet and non-confrontational. At the moment, the usually shy Viking’s tone was stern and held a hint of confidence he rarely let show through. “It is obvious that a Monstrous Nightmare’s flame would burn anything it slices.”

“How about we just write both of them down as hypothesis and move on to the next dragon, a Fireworm was it?” Jackson’s voice was quick to tack on accompanied with a nervous laugh. Clearly he was defusing the imminent fight. Astrid and Hiccup shared a confused look before the group heading into the shop to see the three huddled around Fishlegs’ opened notebook while one of Gothi’s chickens clucking around on the floor at their feet.

“Uh, what are you guys doing?” the shieldmaiden wasn’t sure what to make of Fishlegs and Snotlout voluntarily sitting at a table together and – for the most part – getting along with one another.

Both Vikings had to turn their heads to see the new arrivals while Jackson merely looked up.

Surprisingly, it was Snotlout who answered for them. “We are theorizing the magical effects endowed into blades when burnished in the breath of a dragon.”

There was a beat of silence.

“What?” Astrid asked even more confused.

“I was teaching them more about the Druids’ magical knowledge which has sense digressed,” Jackson cheerfully replied as if his answer explained everything and it probably did. It didn’t, however, make any sense at all to Hiccup and Astrid. Tuffnut and Ruffnut on the other hand, just nodded their heads like they understood every word. “So, what brings you guys here?”

“The well’s dried up,” the chief’s son cut straight to the chase, “and we need to figure out a way to keep Berk supplied with water until a new well can be dug.”

The proclamation caught the attention of all three at the table and Hiccup could tell it Jackson and Fishlegs understood the implication of the dried up well more than Snotlout. The burly Viking probably won’t have understood the implications unless it interfered with his motives and even then, he would only worry about himself and not the others.

“What are we going to do?” the Druid moved around the table, picking up his cloak and staff as he went.

Hiccup was startled by the brunet’s attitude, most of the other villagers would – and might very well have had if not for his father – riot at such news. He was even further shocked Jackson was looking at him for instructions. If the Head of the Dragon Academy was honest with himself, it made him feel like he could do this. Nodding his head in the Druid’s direction with a slight smile, Hiccup began to piece together a plan. He started to pace back and forth in the small space allotted to him with everyone else in the smithy.

Turning sharply on his foot, the auburn haired teenager he pointed to the twins. “Ruff, Tuff, strap on the washtub and head to Lars Lake to fill it.”

“Okay, but that thing's pretty big. I mean, it's bigger than Ruff's butt,” Tuffnut last comment made his sister turn her head around in an attempt to get a good look at her rear to determine if her brother was telling the truth or not. “It could take a while. A week or two.”

Coming to the conclusion her twin was lying to her, Ruffnut delivered a perfectly aimed right hook to the blond Viking’s face. Tuffnut was laid flat on the ground due to the punch, a low grunt indicating he hadn’t succumbed to unconsciousness.

“Well, I was assuming you would use your dragon,” Hiccup drily added, not bothering to give the twins’ antics any further thought. The others did not either. Although, Jackson did peer down to make sure Tuffnut was alright, which judging by the way he shrugged and looked back up at the other twin, the Viking would be fine.

“Why would you think that?” Tuffnut pushed himself up as if nothing happened even as the left side of his face started to swell.

“Because,” Hiccup started before realizing who he was talking to and dropped his head into his awaiting hand for the second time that day. “Okay, moving on. Astrid, Snotlout, head to the mountain streams, and fill as many canteens as you can.”

“Mountain streams,” a thoughtful expression crossed the brunet Viking’s face while his eyes were glued to Astrid. Pushing himself away from the table, he got up and moved closer to the shieldmaiden, all but snuggling up to her. “Romantic.”

Astrid would have none of that though. She grabbed the arm about to be draped over her shoulder and twisted it, forcing the broad-shouldered Viking in front of her. The new position allowed her to kick Snotlout in the ass while letting go of his arm, resulting in the teenager stumbling forward into a pile of scrap metal. A cry of pain and curses followed a moment later.

Since Hiccup had ignored the twins’ antics, he was obligated to ignore Astrid’s violent tendencies and Snotlout’s roughed up shape as well. “Fishlegs, Jackson, you're going to help me figure out what happened inside that well.”

“Um, you may not know this, but I don't do well in tight spaces,” the usually shy and uncertain of himself Fishlegs was back, eyes holding a timid gleam while his whole body shivered at the very thought.

“Don’t worry about it, Fishlegs, everything’s going to work out. You’ll see,” Jackson reassured the Viking, shooting the heavyset teenager a smile. He didn’t seem all that reassured, but Fishlegs was no longer shaking which was progress.

“Alright, you heard the man, let’s move out!” the shieldmaiden clapped her hands together. The twins took one last look at Snotlout still stuck in the pile of metal, ass end up and got one last laughed in before heading out. Astrid gave a soft smile to Hiccup and headed out herself, grabbing one of Snotlout’s legs as she went by and dragged the dazed Viking with her.

“So, how are we going to check out what happened to the well?” the Druid asked, tilting his head to the side as amber eyes gazed at the Head of the Academy inquisitively.

Taking a deep gulp of air – and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why he felt suddenly breathless – Hiccup looked around the stall. “We’re going to need rope, lots of rope.”

* * *

“That's it, girl. Just keep it steady,” Fishlegs encouraged Meatlug as she lowered the rope holding Hiccup down the well.

Toothless had been running back and forth agitatedly ever since his rider began to descend down. The only one who was able to do something about it was Jackson. Somehow the brunet had gotten the dragon to sit next to him as they provided a look out for the dragon’s rider. Although, the Night Fury was anything but still. He kept grumbling and whining, pawing at the ground the lower the auburn haired teenager got.

“Lower. Keep going. Just a little more,” a faint voice echoed up from the well and Jackson relayed the message to the duo in the air with a hand gesture. “Okay. Hold it right there.”

Another gesture from the Druid had the rope halting; when Hiccup was sure the line wasn’t going to move, he untangled his hand from the rope and held out the lantern. He had to hastily latch back onto the line when he slid down a few lengths and hooked his arm around the rope more securely before dared reach his arm out again. When he was sure he wasn’t going to fall for a second time, he reached out his left hand closer to the stone wall of the well. Touching the darker stones, he rubbed his fingers together feeling the traces of water. The stones were still wet but not dripping with water.

“The water level was way up here and it's still wet,” Hiccup muttered to himself gazing down at the blackness below. Clearly, there had been water in the well up until a few hours ago if he had to make an estimated guess. Where it was now, he wasn’t quite sure.

Prying one of the smaller stones from the well wall, the Dragon Rider dropped it and listened for the resulting clatter. It took some time, yet he eventually heard the distinctive sound of the rock reaching the bottom. However, it wasn’t the sound of something breaking through water like he was hoping but the sound of rock on rock.

Looking back up, Hiccup could only faintly see the outlines of Jackson and Toothless against the bright sky above. “Jackson, have Fishlegs get me all the way down.”

“Are you sure? That’s a long way down,” the brunet’s voice echoed down.

Smiling the concern for his wellbeing, the chief’s son nodded his head even though he knew the other couldn’t see him. “I’ll be fine, just have Fishlegs get me down.”

“You got it,” Jackson’s head tilted up towards the dot in the cloudy sky which the Dragon Rider knew was Meatlug and Fishlegs. “Fishlegs! Take him all the way down.”

“Is he sure? It looks awfully dark and scary down there,” Hiccup vaguely made out the blond Viking’s comment without Jackson having to relay anything.

“He’s sure.”

“Okay! Take him down, girl,” and with that the line gave a jerk and he was being lowered once more. The lower he got, the more he could hear the distress whines from Toothless.

“He’ll be okay Toothless,” Hiccup heard the silvery resonance reassure the Night Fury and looked up to see the Druid petting the dragon’s head. However, it was in that moment the rope snagged on one of the jagged rocks jutting out of the well wall. His self-preservation instincts kicking in and he had to grab ahold of the rope with both hands to keep from falling. Jackson’s voice echoed down as he scolding the Gronckle rider above. “Fishlegs, what are you doing? Keep Meatlug under control.”

From where he was now, Hiccup couldn’t hear the Viking’s answer, but as the rope gave another ominous creep and he didn’t think Meatlug was listening. He could hear the worry in the brunet’s voice as he yelled out something else, but the auburn haired Viking couldn’t make it out over his own gasp of fright. A moment later, he felt the rope go lax and he started to free fall before he was jerked back to a stop.

He looked up and could barely make out Jackson gripping the end of the rope, halfway leaning over the well’s edge. Hiccup could only assume the reason the Druid wasn’t falling in was the fact Toothless was holding on to Jackson’s cloak. A cloak which wasn’t made for holding one person’s weight, let alone two, and it wasn’t all that surprising when the ties fastening the article of clothing to Jackson’s person broke and Hiccup was falling again. This time he wasn’t falling alone.

Jackson appeared to know a little more about free falling than the Viking did seeing how the Druid easily caught up to Hiccup and grabbed his arm. The brunet proceeded to slow their descend by twisting the staff – how he managed to keep ahold of it in all this confusion was beyond Hiccup – horizontally. The ends of the staff grinded against the well walls and Hiccup was surprised the piece of wood hadn’t snapped, but he wasn’t about to complain.

A harsh gust of wind blew from beneath them further slow their fall until they stopped. Just in time too, since Hiccup was no longer surrounded by the confined stones of the well but dangling freely in a large opened cavern. Above him, Jackson held on his staff which just inches away from the end of the well walls which the ends of the piece of the wood had miraculously wedged itself into the dirt and rock, prevented them from being killed. With a groan, the brunet release Hiccup’s hand and yanked his other hand in such a way that his staff pulled free, dropping both of them to the ground a few feet below.

The Dragon Rider landed none too kindly on his back with a loud thud, followed by another softer thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I know this is early, but on Friday I'm laying my Grandpa to rest and I've been working on the story to keep from thinking about it. It hasn't been helping as much as I'd hope.
> 
> Next week, I'll update at my regular schedule, i.e. on Friday. If not, it's probably because I finally had the emotional breakdown that I've been starving off and didn't get around to writing. In that case, I'm sorry in advance.


	16. Through the Tunnel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Midnight_Love_Songs: Thank you for your condolences, they made me feel a bit better. As for you using Druid Jack, I would absolutely love to see anything you write with him as a druid. So, if you ever do post anything, give me a heads-up.
> 
> JunFiacre: I want to thank you too for your condolences and I'm just glad you review because a lot of people don't. It's always nice to know what things stand out to a reader and what was done well. 
> 
> Thanks you to the rest of you reading and reviewing, its a great inspiration to keep moving forward.

“Ow,” Hiccup groaned out as his shoulder and back made his mind aware of the pain which came from the fall. Sadly, he could honestly say he had dealt with worse and it wouldn’t bother him.

Off to the side, the Dragon Rider could hear Jackson muttering in that strange language which he sometimes fell back on when he was tired or wasn’t really thinking. However, Hiccup didn’t need to know the language to know the Druid was cursing. The auburn hair teenager rapidly pushed himself up and looked around in the minimal light provided by the opening of the well. He couldn’t see much yet he easily found Jackson’s huddled form to his right along with the shattered remains of the lantern.

“You alright?” Hiccup braced his hands on the ground to get to his metal leg under him. However, as he was pushing himself up, a fretful dragon swooped down the well in a litter of dirt and dust and crashed into the unprepared Viking. The teenager was forced back down on the ground, this time his chest hurting along with his back thanks to the Night Fury above him. “Ow.”

Looking up at the dazed dragon’s face, the Viking began to work himself up into a fret when he found acid green eyes closed. He needn’t have to be concerned. With a shake of his head, green eyes burst open before he started sniffing his rider, looking for any injures. When he found none, Toothless nudged the teenager’s face and gave him a few licks, crooning in happiness.

“Yeah, I’m fine Toothless,” Hiccup chuckled only to abruptly came to an end when a nearly indistinct whimper coming from the darkness. Dread filled his chest when he realized the Druid hadn’t answered his earlier question either. Pushing the dragon off of him, the teenage Viking’s head whipped over to where he had seen Jackson’s form last. Yet, with the additional dust and debris in the air, it was near impossible to see the younger teenager. “Jackson? Please talk to me.”

“Hiccup,” came out a pained gasped which had Toothless bounding off into the darkness over to the brunet. Hiccup used the red tailfin as a guide to lead him over to Jackson, who was kneeling on the ground with his staff resting at his side. The shadowy form of the Druid was tightly clenching his right shoulder and although the Dragon Rider really couldn’t clearly see his face, Hiccup could see how the boy’s whole body was taut and quivering in pain.

“Jackson! What’s the matter?” Hiccup fell to his knees by the brunet’s side. Tentatively he reached out and lightly brushed his fingers against the injured shoulder. He immediately reeled back at the hissed of agony which came from his touch.

“My arm,” Jackson wheezed out, clenching the appendage closer to his body and away from the Viking.

Gulping, the Dragon Rider steeled his nerves and reached out again, this time his hand hovering over the injury. “Hold still, I’m going to take a look. Toothless, give me a small blast.”

The dragon let out a low warble and then a small burst of plasma shot up at the top of the cavern. The blast of plasma super-heated the cavern’s ceiling to the point the rocks glowed. With the additional amount of light, Hiccup got a better look at the injury and winced upon glimpsing Jackson’s huddled form. His right shoulder was clearly lower than his left and the chief’s son knew the reason the shoulder had been popped out of place because Jackson had hung on to Hiccup.

“By Thor,” the auburn hair teenager grimaced. He had seen an injury like this before and – _thankfully_ – he also remembered how Gobber had set the injury. “I think I can help, but it’s going to hurt.”

The Druid didn’t even look up, only pausing for a moment before nodding. “Go ahead.”

“Alright,” Hiccup eyed the shoulder, hands trembling as he sent a silent prayer to Eir. “Toothless, give us a little more light.”

With the extra light, the Dragon Rider cautiously took ahold of the injured arm and placed his other hand on the brunet’s back. Glancing into big amber eyes, he gave a strained smile and swiftly forced the arm back into its socket, his eyes never once leaving Jackson’s. However, when the Druid gasped out in pain, his eyes went impossible wide and rolled back into his head as his body slumped backwards in a dead faint. Thankfully, Toothless surged forward and wrapped himself around Jackson, supporting his weight.

“Hiccup! Hiccup!” the Head of the Dragon Training Academy was pulled away from his growing fears he did something wrong as his father’s voice came from the well’s opening. Fishlegs must have gotten the chief when they went in to the well.

Reassuring himself Jackson was going to be fine resting up against Toothless and he wasn’t in any pain, Hiccup scurried over to stand just below the opening. Squinting at the light raining down into his eyes, he thought he could see his father and Fishlegs but they were dots and he couldn’t be absolutely sure. Not at this distance.

“W-we… I am okay, Dad!” the teenager yelled up through cupped hands, holding up his hand to block the dust and debris drifting down from getting in his eyes. “But Jackson’s hurt.”

There was some faint noise as if his father was speaking with someone else up top before Stoick’s voice echoed down. “Can you fly back up?”

“No, it's too narrow,” Hiccup glanced between the gap in the cavern’s ceiling and Jackson. Toothless had since wrapped his tail around the boy and was supporting his body up right, being mindful of the brunet’s shoulder while keeping it immobilized at the same time. The glowing rocks were already starting to fade and it was becoming harder to see the black dragon.

“Someone get me a rope,” his father’s voice was barely heard as he yelled – probably at Fishlegs – behind him before becoming louder once more. “I'm coming down after you, son.”

“Dad, don't. Then all of us will just be stuck down here,” the Dragon Rider discouraged his father waving his hands around negatively even though no one could see him, it made him feel better. No matter how much he hadn’t wanted his father to meet Jackson in the morning, he really needed his help now with the teenager. However, then the four of them would all be stuck at the bottom of the well which would make matters even worse. It would be best if they found their own way out through the cavern.

“Well, just stay right there until I can think of a way to bring you both up,” Stoick attempted to compromised banging his hands against the well. A new cloud of debris was dislodged and drifted down into unprepared green eyes. Hiccup took a few steps back to avoid getting anything else in his eyes and almost ended up tripped when his feet became tangled. He caught himself at the last second and only when he was sure he wasn’t going to fall, did he looked down.

Wrapped around his feet was a piece of blue and white material. Picking up the cloth, the auburn haired Viking held Jackson’s cloak up in the dim light. Toothless must have brought it down with him when he came after them.

Glancing from the cloak to its owner, Hiccup make up his mind and tilted his head back up. “That could take some doing, Dad, and we don’t know how much time it could take. We could follow the cavern down here and find a way out. The water had to go somewhere and we’ll just follow that. Besides, I have Toothless and Jackson with me. We’ll find another way out.”

“He makes an excellent point, sir. The Night Fury has an uncanny ability to navigate and… this is clearly none of my business,” the Dragon Rider could faintly hear Fishlegs rationalized with the chief.

Hiccup shook his head; wordlessly wishing the heavyset Viking luck with persuading his father – he knew from experience it wasn’t something that was easy to do – and rejoined Toothless. Carefully, he placed the cloak across Jackson’s body which caused the unconscious brunet to flinch and groan. The noise had the Night Fury’s ear-plates flattening against his head and he emitted a soft cooing noise to comfort the Druid.

Another plasma blast had the dying glow rejuvenated and gave Hiccup a better look at the cavern they had ended up in. At first glance, the whole area was one big enclosed space yet a second glanced revealed an opening hidden within a shaded alcove.

“Dad! I-I think I found something,” he moved towards the alcove, hoping his father could hear him from here as he moved further away from the opening. A few more steps into the shadows had Toothless growling and his rider stopping in his tracks. He knew from experience the Night Fury didn’t growl for no reason and he wasn’t about to go further without Toothless by his side. Still, from his new vantage point he could see there was indeed a passageway and not just a dead-end in the alcove. “It looks like a…a tunnel!”

There wasn’t an immediate reply, but after a pause, Stoick’s voice filled with concern came drifting down from above. “Well, just be careful down there, son. We'll be standing by if you need us.”

“We will,” Jackson’s haggard silvery tones struggled to put the chief at ease and had the added effect of causing Hiccup to spin around to see the Druid standing up, leaning heavily against his staff.

“Jackson?” the Dragon Rider’s voice was higher than normal as he took in how the brunet’s cloak was draped awkwardly over his bad shoulder which barely hid the way he was cradling his arm to his chest. Toothless was on his good side, a step to the left ready to support Jackson if need be.

“Sorry about fainting on you,” the brunet awkwardly offered a weak, strained smile that did little to put anyone at ease. In fact, it made the Dragon Rider’s concern for the younger teen grow.

“It’s alright, Spitelout did the same when Gobber reset his shoulder,” Hiccup attempted to reassure the Druid with the knowledge even a fully grown, hardened Viking had fainted during the same procedure.

“So, is this the way we’re going?” Jackson asked while amber eyes looked around the auburn haired teenager towards the hidden path.

The Viking thought to tell him he wasn’t going anywhere. However, had the feeling the effort would go to wasted. Hiccup had already experienced the Druid’s stubbornness last night when he talked his way on to the Dragon Academy training drill that he really shouldn’t have been on. So if Jackson got it in his head he was fine then he would no doubtably wonder off on his own and could very well wind up worse off than he already was. It would be better for them to stay together if only for Hiccup’s own piece of mind.

Somehow, without saying a word in his defense, Jackson had convinced the chief’s son to allow him to tagalong.

Sighing in defeat, Hiccup nodded his head. “Yeah, through the tunnel; but we might have a problem. My lantern broke when we fell, so...”

The Viking trailed off when he saw a smile spread across the Druid’s features despite the immense amount of pain he had to be in.

“I think I might have a temporary solution for that.” Jackson mumbled, reaching his good hand into the pouch on his leg. He pulled out a white cloth and fumbled to open it up one handed. When he was finally able to unfold the fabric, little streams of light began to stream out which had Toothless’s ear-plates perking up. The dragon creeped closer to the brunet to get a good look, sniffing the cloth.

“Wha-what is that?” Hiccup stumbled back, eyes widening and his face slackened as the light intensified. The Night Fury, on the other hand, started to croon out happily.

The brunet laughed a little as Toothless nudges his hand holding the source of light, purring slightly. “It’s folder sunshine. I used it when me and Toothless were trapped in that glacier to give us some light. It’s one of the few magical spells I can work with.”

“That’s amazing,” the Dragon Rider took a step closer to get a better look at the folded piece of cloth.

“Uh… thanks?” Jackson ducked his head, shifting on his feet which had the Druid become ridged before releasing a low hissed having pulled something from the simple movement. It took a moment for him to regain his composure, but when he did, he offered the fabric to Hiccup. “Here, why don’t you hold it? Just slowly unwrap the cloth, but not too fast or else all the light will be used up at once and then we will be standing in the dark.”

“Um, okay,” trembling hand took the cloth passed his way. The moment it was out of his hands, the brunet wrapped his hand around his staff, pulling it from where it had been sandwiched between his body and arm.

“Lead the way, Dragon Rider,” Jackson said with a flourish wave of his staff. The only evidence of the pain he was in came from the whiteness of his knuckles. Every time he aggravated his injure, his grip on the piece of wood would tighten. It was a tell Hiccup would keep an eye on since the Druid seemed to be determined not to let his wounds get in the way regardless of the pain he was in.

“Okay,” the chief’s son reluctantly agreed, wondering again why he wasn’t forcing the other to say here while he found them a safe way out. Looking down at the piece of cloth emitting rays of sunshine out of its folds, he turned to Toothless and gulped down the trepidation which was building up and nodded his head towards the tunnel. “Bud, what do you say we find out where this leads?”

The dragon gave him an innocent look before sneezing and shaking his head. Rolling his eyes at the display, the Dragon Rider led the way into the tunnel. Walking through the passageway turned out to be a bit difficult with the uneventful, rocky path. Mercifully, the breadth of the space changed very little, if at all, so they didn’t have to worry about hitting their heads or squeezing through unreasonable small opening. However, the first real obstacle came in the form of a fork in the tunnel.

Hiccup looked unsure between the two different ways, giving a quick glance back at Jackson – whose knuckles had regains some color to them – before randomly picking a direction.

“Okay, uh this way!” the Dragon Rider chose the second path when a large gust of wind blew through the one he was about to lead them through. “I don't know about you, but I get the distinct feeling we are not alone down here.”

“Agreed,” the grip Jackson had on his staff tightening ever so slightly, yet he still caught the movement when he turned to give the Druid a look. Toothless also rumbled his agreement, something which didn’t make the fluttering in Hiccup’s stomach any better. Actually, the fluttering in his stomach became worse; especially when a deep growl echoed through the cavern and it had not come from the dragon traveling with them. “I’d feel better if we got out of here as fast as possible. Something is not sitting right with me.”

There was a consensus of nodding heads which had Hiccup continuing forward. If his steps were a little bit faster, Jackson didn’t bring it up and matched him step for step. All of them were a bight twitchy, jerking at any sudden sounds or movements from the shadows. There were multiple more tunnels, branching off the one their currently were one, but whenever Hiccup tried to go down some of them, a gall of wind had him changing his mind. Finally, Jackson broke the building apprehension.

“You know, I think these caverns might run right under the town; wouldn’t you think, Hiccup?” amber eyes locked on the cavern’s ceiling as if he was trying to see straight through the rock to the surface above.

“I’m sure they do,” green eyes briefly drifting up only to refocus ahead of him as he unraveled another fold in the cloth. He wasn’t quite sure, but he thought there wasn’t much more of the light left inside the cloth. Most of the folds having been stretched open and the intensity of the sunshine appeared to be fading. He didn’t think it would be a good idea to say anything though; Hiccup didn’t want to alarm the brunet anymore given his wound.

A crunch under his metal leg had him hastily taking a step back at the sudden change in the so far unchanging tunnel. Hiccup had to kneeling down bringing the diminishing light closer to see what had caused the noise. There, imbedded in his footprint were a large number of small white shards. Running his hand over the delicate remains, the Dragon Rider held one of them up which Toothless started to sniff them. When the dragon’s ear-plates went back and his eyes became slits, Hiccup’s growing fears were confirmed.

“What is it?” Jackson asked from behind him.

The Viking didn’t answer immediately; instead, he stood up and unfolded another crease in the cloth to allow a brighter – more intense – light fill the cavern illuminating dozens of curved white broken shards littering the open space. “Dragon eggs."

“Dragon eggs?” the brunet echoed, eyes darting around the area before spotting a difference among the broken dragon eggshells. “What’s that?”

Looking to where Jackson’s staff was pointing; he squinted before moving closer to the object. Tucked away in a niche, lying on its side like it had been abandoned was a decent size wooden chest. However, it was the brand scorched into the top which captivated the Head of the Dragon Training Academy’s attention. For there was a copper-gate helmet design burned into the wood, the outline had two short sets spikes coming out on the top of either side of the helmet along with a set of long curved horns below the spikes which gave away who the chest belonged to.

“That's the Outcast crest,” Hiccup said flatly.

It would seem his earlier prediction the Outcast Tribe had mounted an attack against the Hairy Hooligan Tribe was true. Even the type of attack – a dragon attack – had been correct. He didn’t know if it was paranoia or some type of premonition – Hiccup leaning towards the former – but what he did know, was they needed to get out of the cavern now.

“As in the Vikings your tribe is currently at odds with?” Jackson question as he poked one of the more intact shells with the end of his staff. The remains crumpled at the simple touch. “Yeah, this screams trap to me.”

Hiccup didn’t disagree with him.

A shriek filled the cavern and had them stiffening, the hairs on the back of their necks raising. Green eyes darted around, drawn to any movements from the shadows but he couldn’t tell if there was anything there or not. Growls from his right had the Dragon Rider jerking his head to where Toothless was crouched closely to the ground, ear-plates back and teeth out while slit pupil eyes were fixated on a particular shadow. There was nothing in the immediate vicinity, but he didn’t doubt the dragon’s instincts. Especially when his own instincts were confirming the same thing: there was something out there.

“Toothless, light up the cave down that way,” Hiccup directed, pointing a figure down the tunnel. The already building up of plasma hurled down the pathway, slamming against a rock wall when the tunnel took an unnatural perpendicular turn.   Light poured through the area with the high level plasma blast not only superheated the rock, but melted parts of it too.

“Hiccup,” Jackson’s sharp voice drew both dragon and Dragon Rider’s attention to him. When he was sure he had gotten their attention, the brunet gestured his staff up where Hiccup found various newly dug holes in the walls. All of which were perfectly round and just big enough for him to crawl through if he could reach them.

The Viking profusely wished he had his shied right about now. “Those are Whispering Death tunnels.”

Toothless growled again, eyes locked on to the tunnel closest to him. A faint noise echoed through the hole as something within scurried in the opposite direction. Hiccup placed a hand on the dragon’s snout, effectively cutting of the build whine of plasma being generated. They didn’t know where the tunnels lead and he wasn’t about to chance Toothless accidently destroying anything irreplaceable.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Jackson murmured as he came to stop on the Night Fury’s other side, amber eyes catching Hiccup’s own. “Care to clue me in.”

“Let’s just say Whispering Deaths are not our favorite dragon, right Bud?” the auburn haired teenager looked down and petted Toothless’s head. The dragon let out an angry snorted and shook his head.

“Alright, I’ll leave it for now, but there’s a story there that I want to know,” the brunet began to roll his eyes but abandoned the action halfway through when amber eyes stay stuck to the ceiling. “But, if these Whispering Deaths you speak of made those tunnels, what made that one?”

Leaning his head back, Hiccup found at a hole which was at least four times the size of every other tunnel right above their heads.

“I don't even wanna know who made that,” the chief’s son found himself saying without consulting his brain. He snapped his mouth closed and jerked his head to look over at Jackson, hoping his thoughtless comment didn’t alarm the Druid. Thankfully, he was too engrossed in the opening above their heads to notice which had Hiccup letting out a sigh of relief before he cleared his throat, picking a random direction to head in. “Let’s keep moving.”

“That is not reassuring at all Hiccup,” Jackson called out from behind him, a lightness to his voice the only indication he was teasing. Like that, the building tension disappeared with one comment. No longer did the shadows seem to be hiding a potential threat and the diminishing light – while was a problem – wasn’t an impossible problem they couldn’t handle.

It was with lighter spirits that the three continued forward. The light from the folded sunshine growing fainter the longer they walked. Jackson kept the metaphorical darkness at bay by weeding the tale of their prior encounter with a Whispering Death out of the Dragon Rider. Regaling the brunet with the tale was ordinary enough that Hiccup was lulled into a false sense of security.

His mind was occupied by re-counting Toothless’s rivalry with a Whispering Death that he failed to notice the lack of commentary from the Druid. It was only when he was finished that he could hear how Jackson’s breathing had become heavy and haggard. The brunet had used Hiccup’s own voice to cover his worsening condition and the Viking hadn’t caught on.

Hiccup hesitated, not sure how to tactfully bring it up but he did say something when Jackson let out a small whimper. “Maybe we should take a break, rest for a while?”

“We don’t have time, the folded sunshine is running out and we need to find a way out before that happens,” the Druid bit out picking up his pace and walking passed the Viking. Toothless looked between him and Jackson and let out a low keen sound, not comprehending what had just gone on.

“That didn’t go as well as it could have,” Hiccup groaned, shaking his head as he and the Night Fury took off after the retreating brunet. It seemed he would forever be surrounded by stubbornness: stubborn fathers, stubborn dragons, stubborn shieldmaidens, and now, stubborn Druids could be added to the list.

Hiccup hurried after the brunet and turned a corner to finally caught up to Jackson, which wasn’t an accomplishment seeing how the younger teen was standing in front of what could have once been an opening. Now, it was blocked due to a cave-in of rocks and boulders too heavy for any of them to move.

“Oh, great,” Jackson groaned, running his good hand through locks of hair. A sentiment the chief’s son wholeheartedly agreed with. It was then the folded sunshine gave up its last ray of sun before flickering out. “Oh, and even greater still.”

“Toothless, would you mind?” the Dragon Rider felt the dragon brush up against him, grumbling, as a blast of plasma shot up into the air. Yet, the blast came from in front of him while the grumbling had come from behind.

“Hic-cup,” Jackson breathed out, amber eyes opened wide.

Slowly, as one, both Toothless and Hiccup turned to see the familiar sight of deadly rows of teeth that could and did rotate in circles to usually crush up rocks but wasn’t opposed from crushing human and dragon flesh when need be. Encompassing the teeth was a large round head crowned with red flared spikes and bulging pupilless white eyes on either side of a curved horned nose. The rest of the dragon’s sea colored physique was long and snakelike, disproportionate to the size of its head. Spines protruded out from all over its body and a pair of medium size wings flared out just behind the dragon’s head.

The Dragon Rider reacted without thinking, diving on top of Jackson and pulling him down while Toothless short his most powerful blast straight into the smaller than normal Whispering Death’s mouth.   The bluish-green dragon moved just in time to avoid getting a face full of plasma but couldn’t evade the attack entirely and was hit on the side. Screeching, the Boulder-class dragon flew around erratically. The momentary distraction gave Hiccup enough time to yank the Druid over to the riled up Night Fury and shoved him up on Toothless’s back before climbing on himself.

“Let's get outta here, Bud,” the Viking huffed, latching his metal leg in the harness and automatically shifting the red tailfin to flare out for takeoff. Not a moment too soon as the enraged dragon plowed into the spot they had been only a moment prior.

“Hiccup, I can’t see,” Jackson’s pained yelled was barely heard over the whipping winds. His good arm was curled around Hiccup’s waist, his staff pressing into the Dragon Rider’s stomach which Hiccup ignore. The slightly pain couldn’t compare to how Jackson’s shoulder must have been feeling with the bumpy ride.

“I can’t either,” Hiccup shouted back over his shoulder and into the darkness. “But don’t worry, Toothless can.”

To prove is point, Toothless let out a roar before spinning out of the way of stalactites hanging down from the top of the cavern before spinning the opposite direction to avoid the stalagmites coming up from the bottom of the cavern.

“No one said anything to me about Night Furies having echolocation,” the brunet squawked into Hiccup’s back as they took another sharp turn.

“Echo what?” the Dragon Rider butchered the unfamiliar word, but he didn’t have time for an answer as Toothless lurched to a stop as something came bursting out of the ground in front of them. “That's one.”

“Two,” the brunet corrected as the sound of something else bursting through the walls came from behind them.

“Three,” Hiccup finished as rocks pelted the side of his face from their latest comer.

“Three too many,” Jackson gasp as Toothless suddenly dove down and out of the way of the Whispering Deaths. They could hear the thud of all three of them ramming into each other.

For a brief moment, Hiccup thought they were free of the Whispering Deaths, that they had knocked each other out; that was before he heard the fluttering of wings behind them. “Aw, come on!”

He could feel Toothless struggling underneath him, trying to gain additional speed to loss them. Yet the Nigh Fury couldn’t reach the speeds needed with his mechanical tailfin in its current position. The Dragon Rider knew this; he knew he should shift the gears but in doing so they would loss some of the maneuverability they desperately needed in these confined, winding tunnels.

Hiccup was about to shift the tailfin when the dragon slowed on his own and for an instant, he didn’t understand why. Then it clicked. There was one set of beating wing and those belonged to Toothless. They hovered there waiting for any indication of an impending attack.

“Uh… That's weird,” the Viking murmured while Toothless flew back the direction they came from.

“Where'd they go?” Jackson asked straining his eyes to see if he could see anything in the dark abyss.

It was then Hiccup realized he could see amber eyes straining that he realized light was filtering in from a hole in the cavern’s ceiling. “They're heading up! To the town! We have to stop them, Bud.”

“We’ll have to go faster, they’ve got a head start on us,” the Druid pointed out as they skyrocketed up the newly formed hole and into what seemed like a never ending vertical tunnel. The Night Fury seemed to agree and put on an extra burst of speed without his rider having to switch gears on the tailfin.

“Yeah, that's it, Bud,” Hiccup praised as they climbed higher and higher in the narrowing tunnel which became a hindrance. No longer could Toothless use his full wingspan to get the desired speed and thrust he was used to and it was aggravating the dragon. “Keep going.”

“Do these guys ever make a straight tunnel?” Jackson asked when they took another left swerve followed by two right swerves before they were launching up into the cloud covered sky above. Greedily, the brunet sucked in the dust free air. “Fresh air. The sky. Thank you. I don’t see how Bunny can live in his Warren without this.”

Hiccup didn’t even bother asking, his attention on a woman screaming. Leveling out, they gazed down at the chaotic scene below of baby Whispering Deaths ravaging the town’s buildings and destroying everything else in their path. He could see the various Academy members and their dragons working to fend off some of the hatchlings, but the Boulder-class dragons kept burrowing back into the earth to escape the Dragon Riders’ attempts at restraining them.

Groaning since he couldn’t seem to catch a break in the last two days, the chief’s son aimed Toothless back towards the village. “We have to get in there, Bud.”

Instead of heading straight into the fray, Hiccup had the Night Fury land near the blacksmith stall. The Viking jumped out of the saddle and turned to help Jackson down. However, the Druid had dismount – albeit a tad awkwardly compared to the usual amount of grace the brunet displayed – Toothless without the need for any assistance.

“Toothless, cover us,” Hiccup ordered not bother to turn around to know that the dragon was doing just that. He could already hear the roars coming from the Night Fury as he battle one of the approaching Whispering Deaths.

“What are we doing?” Jackson breathlessly asked following after the auburn haired teenager into the stall. The Viking headed straight for the newly cleaned workbenches and began rummaging around the shop in search of something while making a huge mess as he went.

“My shield, I need it. Whispering Death’s hate light and I can use it to reflect what little sunlight there is back at them,” Hiccup explained digging through a pile of neatly folded furs.

“Here.” The Dragon Rider turned around to find Jackson setting his staff down on the table and picking up the Gronckle Iron shield that he had bypassed in his haste. Relief flowed through him at the sight of the shiny piece of metal which almost completely covered up the small bit of embarrassment he felt for missing what had been in plain sight all along.

“Thanks,” he gratefully accepted the item, stopping only long enough to take the shield from the Druid’s trembling hand before heading out again, “and stay here. You’re in no shape to fight.”

“Hiccup!” Jackson’s indianite yell was ignored as he raced back outside.

Hiccup exited the front of the stall to the sight of Toothless battling a Whispering Death. The Night Fury had more experience than the newly hatched dragon, but the hatchling had a longer tail and used it to swipe Toothless’s legs out from under him. It then shot forward, mouth wide open and teeth rotating yet the dragon couldn’t get its mouth around the struggling Night Fury currently exposed on his back.

Hiccup didn’t waste time and jumped in to assist Toothless. Holding up his shield, the Dragon Rider caught the stray rays of sunlight peeking through the clouds and angled the reflected beam into the Whispering Death’s light sensitive eyes.

“Let's shine a little light on the situation. Oh, you don't like that, do ya?” Hiccup’s sarcasm made an appearance when the wild dragon showed exactly how much it disliked the light by reeling back and freeing Toothless to escape the light. The Whispering Death screeching loudly, trying to get away from the offending rays and it succeeded. However, with the Night Fury back on his feet, ready to fight and he wasn’t about to fall for the same trick twice. Seeing that it was outnumbered, the hatchling made a strategic retreat and flew off.

“Rule number one: Never forget a dragon's weakness,” Hiccup wisely commented to the Night Fury while climbing into the saddle. “Come on, Toothless. Let's get after 'em.”

The two took off, the auburn haired teenager turned to look behind him when he heard his name being called and found Jackson waving his staff at him. Amber eyes caught his own and he quickly broke the gaze which further enraged the brunet.

“Sorry Jackson, you can’t come this time,” he yelled to the Druid, flying away.


	17. A Scream Born from Whispers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know many of you don't watch the series, but I'm just curious if any of you actually look up the dragons I'm talking about on the web? Or if you're satisfied with my descriptions? It's just something I'm curious about. I really don't know why, but it was something that popped into my mind and I had to ask.
> 
> Also, for some reason, I've started writing Superman/Batman crossovers. They're just one-shots; so, please take a look if your interested in those fandoms. [Yes, I am pimping out my own stories, so sue me. Actually, don't sue me, I don't have any money as it is.]

Hiccup flew toward the other dragons belonged to the Berk’s Defenders, Toothless having to dodge a few Whispering Death hatchling attacks along the way. At this junction in time, the baby dragons didn’t have enough knowledge or experience to create a clever plan of attack and opted for the straight approach of strike first, ask no questions latter. The assaults were easily avoided but the persistence was more than aggravating which delayed him from drawing up level with Stormfly and Astrid by a few moments.

“The Whispering Death tunnels drained our water supply,” Hiccup shouted to catch the shieldmaiden’s attention.

“Yeah, kinda figured that,” the Deadly Nadder rider sarcastically shouted, transferring her weight to the side as both dragons banked to the left. “We need to keep them in the sunlight.”

“That is why I have this,” Hiccup held up his shield. The sight of the highly reflective metal had the hard look on the blonde’s face softening to that of appreciation, only then it turned into a feral grin. She knew he had a plan and that gave her confidence.

No other words needed to be spoken as the shieldmaiden followed his lead and together they worked on corralling the numerous Whispering Deaths. The Head of the Dragon Academy used his shield to reflect beams of sunshine into the hatchlings’ eyes while Astrid had Stormfly use her spine tail shots to keep them headed in the direction of their choosing away from Berk.

“It's working,” Astrid relaxed back into her saddle and reined the Deadly Nadder in, allowing the Whispering Deaths to fly passed her while Stormfly fell into line with Toothless. “We're driving them away from the village.”

A ball of flame seared passed Stormfly’s left wing as three more Whispering Deaths joined in on the half a dozen or so hatchlings already heading on their way out of Berk.

“That's right! You better run,” Snotlout shouted as he and Fishlegs had their dragons forcing the three newcomers into the group. Hookfang spat out another small flame when one tried to make a break to the right and Meatlug’s lava stopped another from escaping to the left. Four out of the six Dragon Riders kept the cyclone of Whispering Death in line as the hatchlings were forced out towards the ocean and out of Berk for good. The remaining two Dragon Riders bemoaned the loss of the destruction and chaos the wild dragons represented.

“I'm gonna miss those guys,” Tuffnut wailed waving goodbye to the retreating Whispering Deaths. “They were, like, dangerous but cool at the same time. Kind of like me.”

“I don't think this is over yet,” Hiccup shook his head. There was this feeling in the back of his mind that he was forgetting something very important about the species of dragon. Not to mention, they hadn’t run into any large dragons which could have created the hole Jackson had pointed out to him in the caves. Meaning there was something out there they still had to deal with. “Not by a long shot.”

“Stop being so negative. Enjoy the moment, Hiccup! Buy some water!” Snotlout gestured around, leaning back and lounging in Hookfang’s saddle.

The auburn haired Viking thought about questioning Snotlout about buying water – he was supposed to be supplying Berk with water for free – when a horribly loud sounding reverberated around them, making the very air shake. Underneath them, the Dragon Riders’ dragons were thrown. Their flight unstable and the Vikings fought to hang on tighter, not wanting to be thrown from their saddles.

“Wh-at… is… th-at?” Fishlegs slowly drew out his words as the dragons steadied themselves. When no one immediately answered, the Gronckle rider hunkered down in the saddle.

The shaking intensified as the ground beneath the hovering dragons gave way and some _thing_ rose up right in front of Toothless. The newly revealed dragon appeared to be another Whispering Death barring the fact it had white scales. Oh and it was heavily mutated, having its teeth aligned differently in a chin which reminded Hiccup of the Red Death. Not to mention the albino dragon was massive, its head bigger than Toothless and this was only a _hatchling_.

Blood red eyes leveled with Hiccup, the massive hatchling roaring as it shook the boulders off its body like they were nothing by pebbles caught in its spines.

“Uh, so that's what I was afraid of,” the Head of the Academy told the others, head tilted all the way back to see the whole dragon. “Uh, suggestions anyone?”

The wild dragon’s eyes broke away from the auburn haired teenager and sweep over the five dragons surrounding it. Blood red eyes narrowed and Hiccup thought they should back off, having surrounded and cornered a newly hatched dragon. Everything was new and different for the hatchling and the Dragon Riders chasing and attacking its clutchmates probably had the dragon – no matter how massive it was – frightened.

However, before he could voice his concerns, the albino dragon roared and lashed out at the dragons. Meatlug’s wings froze for a moment and the Gronckle dropped down a few yards down. The action saved her and Fishlegs’ lives as the wild dragon shot inches above the heavyset Viking’s head.

“What is that thing?” Snotlout’s voice was high pitched, belaying his mixed emotions of fear and amazement.

“Ah, Fishlegs? Is that in _The Book of Dragons_?” Hiccup had the Night Fury fly over to the petrified Viking. He hoped to jar the stunned Viking back into reality and out of the gibbering mass of nerves and terror Fishlegs currently resembled. The heavyset blond couldn’t even talk straight and the Head of the Dragon Training Academy had a feeling the other teen’s mind had gone completely blank, just like his eyes. “ _Fishlegs!_ Is that thing in _The Book of Dragons_ or _not_?”

“Uh, definitely not,” the Gronckle rider finally jolted out of his stupor and viciously shook his head negatively.

“Are you sure?” the chief’s son stressed out, knowing it came out more sarcastically then he meant for but not caring. They had a massive dragon threatening to destroy Berk and he needed Fishlegs to be certain.

“Hiccup, I am certain I would have remembered an all-white, Boulder-class, titan-wing Whispering Death with bright red eyes that bore a hole right through your very soul,” the usually quiet blond all but yelled, his voice coming out harsh and his terror being pushed back as he frantically waved his hands around. Hiccup had to smile, if only a little, seeing Fishlegs jump into action despite his fear.

Nodding his head, green eyes locked on the massive dragon roaming wildly. The Head of the Academy was conflicted. Should they chase after the hatchling and confronting it? Or letting it go? The second he couldn’t even consider – he was the was the next in line to become chief and it was his duty to keep the village safe – and the first he had him morally struggling since the dragon was only a baby. However, his duty to the tribe overrode all else when the massive dragon changed directions and headed straight towards the village.

“Toothless, plasma blast.” The blast hit dead on and Hiccup had a moment of regret when the albino dragon withered some. That was before the wild dragon rounded on him and let loss a deafening scream unlike anything the Dragon Riders had ever hear. Their dragons were just as affected as their withering riders, all of them trying to stay afloat. However, their thrashing made it impossible and they were losing altitude dangerously fast.

“It… It’s affecting our dragons,” Astrid growled out, fighting to stay in seated while dodging the spines along Stormfly’s crown which had flared out against the dragon’s knowledge.

“I know,” Hiccup calmly held on to Toothless’s saddle with one hand. Despite the harsh conditions, he was used to difficult rides. The aerobatic exercises and drills they put themselves through were much worse. A louder, high pitched scream had the Night Fury staggering for a second before he shook off the screech and reorienting himself. “That scream is disorienting them.”

The question of how to stop the screaming went unasked. Yet, the solution came from the beast stopping by itself which was a relief. Hiccup didn’t think his ears could take anymore without him going deaf. He sank in to the saddle, but stiffened once more when red eyes sweep over all of them, assessed their current incapacitated dragons and for a moment, the auburn haired teenager thought it was going to attack again. Instead, the massive dragon used the opportunity to escape and headed straight for Berk once more.

“Screaming Death. I _love_ it!” Tuffnut yelled out louder than was necessary yet the others barely heard him over the ringing in their ears. They didn’t need their ears to see the cyclone of Whispering Death they had just herded out of the village dart pass the recovering Vikings and after the newly dubbed Screaming Death. “Okay, maybe love is too strong a word.”

“Hiccup, what are we gonna do?” the shieldmaiden’s desperation was clear in her voice. She felt helpless watching the Whispering Deaths and the Screaming Death draw closer and closer to their home but to go after them meant serious injury or death.

The chief’s son, though, wasn’t feeling as helpless. His mind analyzed the situation, comparing it to the ordeal with the Queen of Dragons, and clobbered together a strategy. He just didn’t know if it would work, because unlike with the Red Death when it was just him and Toothless against a much larger dragon, in this scenario, the Screaming Death had allies in the Whispering Death hatchlings.

“You guys focus on the Whispering Deaths. I'll try to keep the Screaming Death busy.”

He hoped.

Hiccup really didn’t want to lose another limb in this altercation as he had the last time he faced such odds.

Snotlout didn’t need to be told twice. “Okay, have fun. See ya!”

“Remember your flight club training!” Hiccup shouted out after the Monstrous Nightmare rider, knowing it was a lost hope when it came to Snotlout’s brash behavior but feeling better all the same to get the words out. The other members of the Academy would benefit from the advice as well. With that, he and Toothless went after the much larger problem.

The Head of the Academy pretended he didn’t hear Tuffnut’s parting comment, else he lose the little confidence he had in the twins. “I knew we should've gone to the Academy that day. Quick, someone give me a recap of flight club training!”

Catching up with the Screaming Death was easier said than done. Regardless of the albino dragon’s size, the Boulder-class dragon burrow into the ground – filling in the tunnel as it went – and disappeared from sight. He couldn’t follow the dragon and the upturned earth gave away its position. A scream had Toothless zooming above the village and to the center where the massive dragon had resurfaced and had cornered a fall shieldmaiden.

“Toothless, now!”

The plasma blast had the Screaming Death searching at dragon who dared attacked it and forget about the shieldmaiden. Upon spotting Hiccup and Toothless, it tried to take a bite out of them but the Night Fury was quicker and speed passed the massive dragon before it could even clamp its jaw down. Hiccup was expecting the dragon to fire at them; he was ready for the concentric rings of flames which were characteristic of Whispering Deaths.

He was not expecting a large ball of flames which exploded even before hitting them. The concussive force threw them off balance, but Toothless was quickly able to stabilize them without his rider’s interventions. One of the village’s catapults wasn’t as luck and was destroyed in the blast.

Seeing an opportunity present itself, Hiccup turned the Night Fury around and the dragon let out another high level plasma blast aimed straight at the Screaming Death. It hit the serpentine body dead on. The assault didn’t daze the albino dragon as Hiccup anticipated. Thus, when they flew too close, the Screaming Death slammed its body into the duo and sent them both crashing towards the ground.

Hiccup was thrown off of Toothless, losing his shield as he rolled across the patch of grass he had landed on. His arm – the one Jackson had held onto – slammed against the ground and for a brief moment, his whole vision whited out. In that brief moment, he knew exactly how the Druid must have felt. A screeching scream had his head pounding but it also got him moving. He scrambled to his feet, regardless of the pain, and looked around him at the chaos.

The Screaming Death was running rampant through the village and it was coming right towards Hiccup. With nothing else to protect himself with, the auburn haired Viking threw his arms over his face. When only the dragon’s cries hit his ears, he tentatively lowered his arms to see a blue scaled dragon with a wide body assault the albino dragon with a sonic blast.

The blue dragon’s two sets of triangular wings – a primary set and a smaller set to the rear – allowed the creature to move through the air like a tornado, dodging the massive dragon’s flaying white tail while using his own long barbed tail for a counterattack. Opening his mouth, the blue dragon sucked in a large quantity of air through fanged teeth with a massive underbite and the whole dragon’s body doubled in size. Well, the dragon’s whole body excluding the creature’s four stubby legs.

Another sonic blast forced the Screaming Death to retreat and it was delivered in the nick of time to save the other dragon’s horned tip nose and yellow reptilian eyes – along with his rider’s head – from being slashed with the massive dragon’s spine covered tail.

During the battle between dragons, the Dragon Rider took the opportunity to run over and collected his shield on his way to Toothless’s side. The Night Fury hadn’t moved since the initial crash and yet at the touch of his rider, acid green eyes snapped opened. Hiccup had to backtrack to prevent from being pushed over when Toothless flipped over onto his feet, wings flaring out. Dirt flew off the dragon’s black scales and an angry growl ripped through the Night Fury’s throat.

“Glad you’re okay, Bud,” the young Viking patted Toothless tenderly and climbed onto his back. They joined the blue dragon in the sky and Hiccup shot the dragon’s rider a grateful smile. “Thanks, Dad.”

“I don't even want to know what that thing is, but we need to get it out of here,” Stoick ignored the praise, eyes darting to the sky as he watched the Screaming Death fly around. He pulled the thick leather reins back and Thornado responded to the pressure on the metal bit in his mouth, slowing down.

“Way ahead of you,” the teenager grunted when he irritated the scratches from his fall and the bruises no doubtable forming underneath his clothing. “I'll try to lead it away from the village.”

“I’ll help,” the chief nodded his head and for a moment. Hiccup thought about arguing with him. The problem was, they didn’t have the time and he needed all the help he could get with the Screaming Death. In the end, he found himself nodding in agreement.

Together the father and son duo coordinated an attack, blasting the massive dragon away from the populated village and toward the edge of the islands, near the cliffs which would lead the Screaming Death out to sea. Hiccup thanked the gods when some of the clouds shifted out of the way and beams of sunlight peered down on them. The rays came in handy and he used the Gronckle Iron shield to catch the light and direct it into one of the albino dragon’s red eyes.

“Okay, let's see how it likes this,” the young Viking grinned noticing the way the Screaming Death flinched from the light in its face. “Just what I thought.” No sooner did the words leave his mouth then Hiccup realized the massive dragon didn’t fly away from the light like the Whispering Deaths. No, instead it was was heading towards the Haddocks, towards the light. Hiccup had little time to yell out warning. “Look out!”

Toothless was already reacting, darting left while Thornado dove to the right and out of the Screaming Death’s path. The two dragons rejoined with one another, their riders watching as the massive dragon flew pass them by a longshot and up into the clouds.

“Apparently, it doesn't mind,” Stoick deadpanned.

“It must not have that weakness,” Hiccup’s voice hitched, not knowing what else to do.

“Well, we better figure out what it does have, and quick,” the chief demanded as the Screaming Death made a reappearance. It didn’t fly at them like before, but hung back a ways, eying them. Then it let out another one of its deafening screams that messed with the dragons’ equilibrium and had them fighting to keep in the air. “What's happening?”

“The scream. It affects the dragons' flying,” Hiccup gritted his teeth, fighting to hold onto Toothless’s saddle with his one free hand that just so happened to be the one which had taken a beating today. He briefly wondered how Jackson was able to hold on to him when they were flying through the cavern, since he nearly came off Toothless’s back a few times already and the auburn haired Viking was experienced at staying on stubborn dragon’s backs.

“We’ll just have to take care of that; Thornado, sonic blast!” The concussive force rippled through the air and slammed into the massive dragon, momentarily silencing the screams of death. However, the Screaming Death didn’t retreat as it had done earlier when faced with the Thornado’s sonic blasts. It just furthered anger the albino and took out that anger on the Tidal-class dragon.

“Dad!” Hiccup cried out heart racing when the explosive ball of flames barely missed them and for a second, he thought it had gotten his father. But a flash of blue had vivid green eyes snapping to the right to find Thornado bursting out of the cloud of smoke generated by the blast, the Screaming Death not far behind.

Toothless shot after the albino dragon chasing down his father.  The Night Fury let loss a few burst of plasma on his own accord, but they weren’t as strong as his earlier blast and the white dragon wasn’t even phased by them as it hurtling after the Tidal-class dragon.

A sudden giant eruption of light emanated from the ground after Thornado had flown by which had Hiccup shielding his eyes with his shield and Toothless reeling back at the sheer intensity. The Screaming Death, on the other hand, came to a stop as the light washed over its whole body. For a moment, it appeared that the beast was going to fall, incapacitated with pain. That moment passed when red eyes locked in to the source of the light.

Hiccup had only a moment to register Jackson as the epicenter of the light’s origination. He briefly noted the Druid was standing alone near the edge of the village, leaning on his staff while his bad arm was cradling the fading glow. A glow of light the Screaming Death was dive booming towards.

“Jackson!” Hiccup yelled pushing Toothless to the limits of the current mechanical tailfin’s speed in an attempt to reach the brunet in time. They were thrown back by the shockwave and dust of the Screaming Death driving throw the ground where Jackson had been standing. The Night Fury swiftly corrected himself and headed back over, but by then it was too late.

A giant cloud of dust peppered the area. Rocks of all sizes and other debris rained down, damaging the few huts in the vicinity. One such hut was totally destroyed by a boulder, wooden beams cracked and splintered with a small crater where the rock had landed. Next to that, another hut still partially covered by the cloud of dust had part of the side taken out and a hole the size of Meatlug through the roof.

“No,” Hiccup whispered in denial as the dust started to clear and all he could see was a giant hole where Jackson once stood.

A sound from the right had Toothless’s ear-plates perk up and a second wheeze had high pitch croon escaping the dragon.

“I thought you said these things couldn’t stand the light,” Jackson coughed out the dust in his lungs from where he rested on top of the holey hut’s roof. He shifted on his feet, trying to stand up, but ending up falling back down, hissing out in pain. “I think I might have aggravated my shoulder with that last move.”

“And almost died doing so,” the Dragon Rider let his fear manifest in anger at the sight of the brunet alive and whole. “What were you thinking?”

“That I had folded sunlight which was _supposed_ to be the dragon’s weakness and I could help,” the brunet shot back defensively, pulling his bad arm closer to his chest with his good hand as if to protect himself not only from the pain, but from Hiccup’s anger. Remnants of sunshine slipping out between clenched fingers as the folded sunshine fought to maintain what little glow it still had left.

“Yeah, well, this thing seems to actually be ‘attracted to’ the light,” the Viking sighed as the rest of his rage left him feeling hollow inside. Jackson had only been trying to help and while his lightshow almost got himself killed, it had also kept the Chief of Berk from the same fate. What really matter was that they were all alive thanks to the Druid’s intervention.

Hiccup intended to apologize for his initial reaction and profusely thank the brunet for his actions. However, his life being what it was, that was the moment when the Screaming Death came back out of the hole it had just dug and let out a deafening roar. Red eyes darted every which way before landing on the faint light coming from Jackson’s hand.

The Druid looked down to his hand and then back up a Hiccup, terror in his eyes. “G _et out of here!_ ”

He knew what Jackson meant, Hiccup knew he meant for him and Toothless to go in the opposite direction. Yet, he wasn’t about let anything happen to Jackson again. Not after saving both his and his father’s life in the span of one day.

Toothless seemed to agree with him and dove at the roof as the Screaming Death dove in the same direction at the same time. Being closer of the two, not to mention faster, the Night Fury reached the brunet. Scooping Jackson up with his paws and holding the small human to his chest, Toothless continued on his forward trajectory.

“Jackson?” the Viking started, wanting to say something but no words came to mind.

“Can’t say much for the accommodations, but it’s a hell of a lot better than where I was previously,” came the slightly winded silvery voice. Hiccup let out a giant exhalation, green eyes peaking down at the holey hut which was no longer standing and flinched involuntarily. “Now what?”

“Give me a minute to think.”

“I don’t think we have a minute, the gigantic white dragon is chasing us,” and sure enough, when Hiccup glanced backward, he was greeted with the sight of the Screaming Death following them. Worst yet, it was gaining on Toothless now that the Night Fury had to deal with the weight of two teenagers instead of one.

“Okay, so Screaming Deaths are attracted to the light. I guess that can be a weakness too,” the Dragon Rider rationalized to himself, looking over his shoulder to see the albino dragon chasing them. Looking back a head and out at the opened water ahead, a new plan began to take root. “Toothless, to the sea stacks.”

Toothless roared out in understanding and banked to the left, hard. The Screaming Death shot passed them, but they didn’t gain much of a distance between them and their pursuer. It was learning quicker than a regular Whispering Death hatchling; and while it did overshoot the Night Fury and his passengers, it didn’t go too much further. In fact, it had already turned around and was heading towards them. Red eyes never leaving the wisps of sunshine Jackson still held on to.

“Hiccup, what are you thinking?” the brunet yelled and Hiccup got the feeling if he could, Jackson would be giving him a pointed look with those ethereal amber eyes.

“Don’t worry, just hang on tight,” the Viking tried to reassure the Druid. He had a feeling he failed miserably since it didn’t sound comforting to even his own ears.  

There was nothing more he could do or say as Toothless reached the sea stack and Hiccup had to turn all his attention to shifting the gears of the tailfin to give the dragon the proper balance of speed and agility he no longer had without the Dragon Rider’s aid. They were able to gracefully maneuver through the sporadic network of rock columns. The Screaming Death on the other hand, wasn’t having as easy of a time at navigating the tight turns and narrow openings. Its tail or massive body regularly rammed into the large rocks, pulling growls of pain from the white dragon’s maw and toppling a few of the unstable sea stacks.

“Need a little help?” a familiar voice came from the right and Hiccup turned his head in time to see Stormfly leveling off beside Toothless. Trailing after the Deadly Nadder was the rest of the other Dragon Riders – who were have a little trouble keeping up with the Night Fury and Deadly Nadder while also staying out of reach of the Screaming Death – and Hiccup couldn’t help the feeling relief bubble up inside of him.

“More than a little,” Hiccup confessed as they dodged another sea stack, Astrid the only one veering to the left with Toothless as the other dragons swerved to the right. “It doesn't have the Whispering Death's weakness.”

“No, it goes after the sunlight,” Jackson jumped in, drawing blue eyes away from green to gaze down at the blue mass of fabric Toothless clung to his chest for dear life.

“Jackson?” Astrid’s face went a little pale. Blue eyes opening and closing in rapid succession a few times as if blinking away the sight in front of her. The image didn’t go away and refused to change no matter how many times she blinked.

“Hi Astrid, fancy meeting you here,” the silvery tone chirped cheerfully regardless of the situation the Druid currently found himself in, something that Hiccup had to give the foreigner credit for. It wasn’t every day one went from breaking treaties with ally tribes and chasing after dragons to being falling down wells and being hunted by a massive mutated dragon and its clutchmates. He was holding up pretty well considering. “Just so you know, I’m blaming Hiccup.”

“Hey!”

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, I’m just blaming you for it,” Jackson clarified and the chief’s son just knew, _he just knew_ , there was a huge grin on the brunet’s face. Somehow, in spite of everything going on around them and most likely being in pain, the Druid founded the time to tease him. Hiccup wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. “Besides, who told me they hated sunshine? _Hmm?_ ”

“Okay, fair point,” the auburn haired teenager conceded, concluding the foreigner was not having a metal breakdown. Although, it further solidified Hiccup’s growing concern the Druid’s life from before coming to Berk wasn’t as uneventful as he portrayed. It also had the chief’s son wondered just how long ago Jackson lost his family. With his carefree acceptance of almost being killed – not to mention, throwing himself into the line of fire – the younger teenager was acting similar to the Viking his father would worry about. The ones who attempted to reunite with their loved one already feasting in the Halls of Valhalla.

The thought had Hiccup vowing to keep a closer eye on Jackson.

“So how do we beat it?” Astrid asked, leaning her weight to the right which had Stormfly turning sharply in that direction, narrowly avoiding a ledge protruding out of the sea stack.

“We give it what it wants,” Jackson voice rose a few levels in volume when he caught on to Hiccup’s plan. “I hope you have some way to keep it following us. I’m out of sunshine down here.”

A small white cloth fluttered behind the fast flying dragons, back towards the Screaming Death who promptly swallowed the small piece of material.

“Don’t worry, I'll keep it following me,” Hiccup directed the stray beams of sunlight at the albino dragon with pulling his shield. “Astrid, you and the others get behind and hit it with everything you have.”

“Got it,” the shieldmaiden readily approved, diverting her flight path away from Toothless to join the others – that the Head of the Dragon Academy would occasionally get a glimpse of as they weaved through the sea stacks – and fill them in on the plan.

Hiccup made sure the Screaming Death was too focused on the light reflecting off his shield to give Astrid enough time to coordinate an attack with the rest of the Academy members. Thankfully, the massive dragon took the bait and followed him, upping the stakes by firing a few fireballs. Toothless used the sea stacks to his advantage and dodged behind a large, thick stack and out of harm’s way.

“That last one was a little close,” Jackson helpfully informed the Dragon Rider. Although, his voice was threaded and Hiccup had to strain to hear him. It sounded almost like he was about to pass out again.

“Jackson, hang in there just a little longer,” the Viking shouted around the lump forming in his throat, cajoling the brunet as he shifting his weight as Toothless ducked under a falling sea stack.

“Okay,” the silvery slurred voice barely reached Hiccup’s ears.

The lump in his throat fell into his stomach and proceeding to create knots. His apprehension tapered down at a glimpse of Barf’s head peeking out from behind one of the sea stacks up ahead. Relief washed over him and the Dragon Rider had Toothless flying towards that particular stack.

“Barf, let him have it,” Ruffnut cried when the Night Fury shot passed. A cloud of flammable gas exploded from the right head of the Hideous Zippleback followed by a spark from the left head of the dragon. The spark ignited the gas, creating a small explosion with the Screaming Death in the middle and thrusted the beast into the path of Hookfang’s fire blast.

“Not so tough after all, are ya?” Snotlout jeered as Hookfang flew around the disoriented dragon. The Screaming Death roared and launched a fireball towards the Monstrous Nightmare which didn’t even come close to hitting its target due to the dragon’s disoriented state. It did come extremely close to nailing Meatlug though, much to her rider’s terror.

“H-he didn't mean that, sir… uh, uh, ma'am… whatever you are,” Fishlegs stammered, holding up his hand in the universal sign for surrender. Not that the albino dragon understood – or cared – about the gesture.

Instead it let loss a barge of fireballs at the scattered dragons, one fireball right after the other which had the Dragon Riders to scrabble out of the way. The Screaming Death would have continued with its assault, yet sunlight poured into red eyes, effectively distracting the dragon. Turning towards the source, the albino dragon looked down on Toothless standing on top of one of the sea stacks with Hiccup on his back shining the sunlight into its eyes and Jackson slumped against his back.

“Let's see if we can use its size against it,” the auburn haired Viking growled out. Toothless echoed with a growl of his own before launching them up into the air. Jackson weakly held onto the fabric of Hiccup’s fur vest while his staff was safely tucked between their bodies in no danger of being lost. “Hyah! Come on, Toothless! A little higher.”

Behind him, the barely coherent brunet mumbled something in his native tongue and a sudden gust of wind pushed the Night Fury higher, passing through the clouds before evening out. The hold on the back of his vest all but disappeared, which didn’t go unnoticed by Hiccup. Without thinking, he let go of the saddle with his left hand and reached behind him to latch on to Jackson. The only thing keeping him connected to the dragon was his feet in the stirrups, which had to be enough.

“Hold on. We’re almost there,” the Dragon Rider spoke softly into Toothless’s ear-plate as the skimmed across the clouds. The sound of teeth chopping increased in frequency and sound with each passing flap of the Night Fury’s wings. “Now!”

With that simple command, the Night Fury dove down. Hiccup could feel the weightlessness which came with the dive, his body trying to separate from Toothless due to the speeds. However, he didn’t let go of his awkward hold on Jackson nor did he grab hold of the saddle with the arm holding the shield, reflecting the light at the Screaming Death which keep the beast following them. He did the opposite, tightening his hold on the brunet and used all the strength he could muster in his legs to stay affixed to the saddle.

Wind whistled by Hiccup’s ears and he could feel the pressure building up but gave it no heed. Vivid green eyes watered, but he trusted Toothless to keep them from plummeting into the water. The Night Fury didn’t disappoint, flaring out his wings to catch them just feet from the ocean’s waves yet never losing any speed as they skimmed the water’s surface.

The Screaming Death copied Toothless’s move, regardless the beast’s tail and lower body impacted with the whitecaps of the waves. Its wingspan not being able to complete the maneuver with the same precision as the Night Fury could. The albino dragon screeched, attempting to take out its failure out on Toothless by detaching the Night Fury’s tail with its teeth. There was no success but the last chomp scarcely missing tearing through the red tailfin’s tip.

“That's it. Keep coming. Almost there, big guy,” Hiccup murmured to himself as they reached the sea stacks once more and swerved though them. This time, however, the Screaming Death would have none of that and plowed through a couple of the smaller, less sturdy sea stacks. The beast didn’t even appear to be affected by crashing through the stack while the boulder rained down on its body. It actually seemed to be gaining speed.

Toothless increased his pace and banked right, momentarily disappearing from the albino dragon’s sight. The opening gave Hiccup enough time to get the Night Fury into position in front of the cliff face and arrange the shield in front of his body. He wasn’t as prepared as he’d of like when the Screaming Death torn through the large sea stack and headed straight for the shiny metal. The Viking almost released his hold on Jackson only to reaffirm his grip when those red eyes filled up most of his sight. Only then did Hiccup allow Toothless to fly skyward with one powerful flap of his wings.

The Screaming Death didn’t stand a chance. It couldn’t change directions in such a short space and flew head first into the cliff, momentarily knocking itself out. The beast fell to the beach below, but with him also came a few chucks of the cliff having been broken off in the collision. One of the titan’s wings was pinned down by the boulders. When the dragon came to, it head-butted the rocks off its wing but it became clear the albino dragon wouldn’t be able fly.

The pain filled screech was loud enough to wake the dead, or in this case jolted the brunet awake.

“His wing is hurt,” Jackson slurred into Hiccup’s ear, causing the auburn haired teenager to jerk at the unexpected feeling of the whispered words against his ear. Quickly, he released his grip on the brunet as if the touch burned. However, he didn’t have to worry, the Druid hadn’t even noticed the awkward hold; amber eyes fixed on the wailing dragon flopping down below them. “He can't fly.”

“A downed dragon is a dead dragon,” Hiccup whispered, more to himself than to the brunet. The guilt was already eating away at him. He hadn’t meant to cripple the dragon; he just wanted to hurt it enough to get it to retreat. The Hairy Hooligan Tribe’s safety came first after all, but this was never want he wanted.

The Dragon Rider needn’t have to worry long as the dozen or so Whispering Death hatchlings flew to the Screaming Death’s aid. They flew around the much larger dragon and worked together to lifted the dragon off the sandy beach. A few of them wrapped their serpentine bodies around the white dragon while two on either side got underneath its wings, there was a few false starts but they were finally able to lift the massive dragon up.

“Wow,” Jackson whispered in amazement. Hiccup had to agree, to see such synergetic behavior out of the young dragons, it was a wonder.

Toothless, On the other hand, did not like watching the potential threat began to regroup. His flying became more erratic and bumpy for the rider as the Whispering Deaths lifted the Screaming Death. Ear-plates flattened themselves against the Night Fury’s head and growls coming from the agitated dragon when the cyclone flew off, away from Berk and out into the ocean.

“Whoa, Bud, whoa. It's hurt. Let it go,” the Viking soothed, rubbing the black dragon’s head just the way he knew Toothless liked it. “We need have our own injured to take care of.”

“I’m right here, ya know,” the brunet grumbled tiredly, his weight settling once more on Hiccup’s back.

“Yeah, I know,” the Head of the Academy whispered, hiding a small smile and headed to regroup with his friends to make sure they had come out unscathed as he had.

“Thanks for the save,” Jackson mumbled softly as his voice drifted off.

“You’re welcome.”

* * *

“I found Outcast markings on a crate in those tunnels. I think Alvin planted those eggs, knowing they would hatch and tear Berk apart. He might not be riding dragons yet, Dad, but he is using them,” Hiccup explained later that night to his father as they prepared for the evening meal.

It was the first chance he got to speak with the man at all regarding the crates he and Jackson found under Berk. What with everything else going on and after the whole incident, the chief had been in high demand. Busy coordinating the repairs of the village while the Dragon Riders had taken it upon themselves to fill in the holes created by the Boulder-class dragon hatchlings.

“We'll deal with Alvin and his wild dragons later. Right now, we have to fix our water problem,” Stoick nodded, pushing the potential problems of Alvin and his Outcasts to the side to focus on the more immediate problems the tribe faced.

“You don’t have to worry about that. Fishlegs found the well filling itself back up. The Screaming Death's digging must have created a new channel for the water and redirected it back to our well,” the teenager grinned at the memory of a soaking wet Meatlug and Fishlegs coming to him with the news.

“Right. Well, that means Gobber will be getting his bath tomorrow than.” The chief let out a huge sigh of relief as his shoulders sagged; no one wanted to have to deal with a foul smelling blacksmith longer than necessary, especially the Haddocks who had to deal with the man more than most.

“The twins will be happy to help, if it means someone else’s pain.” Stepping out of the way of his father’s way to allow the man to set the cauldron he pulled off the hearth on to the counter where Hiccup was busy cleaning the dishes which had been stacking up in the last few days.   “Dad, I'm more concerned about what came out from under Berk.”

“What are you talking about, son? That thing's long gone,” Stoick questioned creasing what he was doing to look directly at his son. The young Viking had to fight to keep himself from fidgeting and still didn’t succeed. His best bet was getting it over with quickly, hating he was the bearer of bad news twice in a row.

“I'm not so sure, Dad. Whispering Death hatchlings are known to return to their birthplace and claim it as their own,” Hiccup cringed, a little afraid of the words coming out of his mouth.

He had even gone to Fishlegs to confirm his suspicions when he had remembered that little tidbit of information and the dragon obsessed Viking had come to the same conclusion. The Dragon Rider knew he had forgotten something important about Whispering Deaths when they had been dealing with the Screaming Death and after remembering, he had felt nauseated at the possible consequence for Berk.

“What are you saying?” the chief demanded, brushy eyebrows crumpling together and green eyes turning as hard as stone.

“I'm saying I don't think we've seen the last of the Screaming Death,” Hiccup sighed as the hut descended into silence. They sat there for some time, neither of the Haddock wanting to speak, not knowing what to say. The only sound coming from the crackling of the fire and the clinking of metal against metal coupled with the splashing of water as the young Viking finished up with the dishes.

“Enough of that for now, we discuss this more latter,” Stoick abruptly took the now clean cauldron from his son and placed it back over the hearth next to a full cauldron the chief had sent for from the Great Hall, “right now, we need to get dinner ready. After all, Jackson’s coming over. What time did you invited him over for?”

Hiccup cringed, eyes closing involuntarily and teeth clenching. He had entirely forgotten about his father wanting to meet the Druid and didn’t invite Jackson over. The last he saw of the brunet was when he and Toothless flew him over to Gothi’s so she could look him over. Although, there had been a long line of Vikings waiting to be treated by the tribe’s healer and had left in him the capable hands of one of the shieldmaiden’s assisting the healer.

“Son?” Stoick questioned and the teenager took a deep breath, stalling while building up the courage to say something – anything – at the same time. He really didn’t know how to explain to his father he hadn’t invited Jackson over. Thank Odin, he was saved from the disappointing look his father was sure to give when there was a knock at the door. “Ah, that must be him now. I’ll get it.”

The large redhead Viking ambled on over to the door and Hiccup let out a sigh of relief at the reprieve. Hopefully, whoever was at the door would put his father in a good enough mood that when he explanted to the man why Jackson wasn’t coming for dinner that night, he wouldn’t be too upset.

“Ah, you must be Jackson!” his father’s voice echoed throughout the hut causing Hiccup to stiffen.

“Yes sir,” came the silvery decibels the Dragon Rider was becoming _very_ familiar with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I hate that I made Jack faint to so much. It wasn't my intention but between the pain - which I've passed out from when I popped my shoulder out of place - and the use of his magic - which in RotG he passes out from learning the new ice trick and I was trying to be consistent - he kept fainting. [Jack has kindly informed me that he doesn't faint, but passes out. He's not a damsel in distress, thank you very much.]


	18. Dinner at the Haddock Hut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to point out this is going to be a long story with slow developing HiJack. However, it is also an action story since I'm following the series to some extent.

Hiccup flew to the door and ended up tripping over his chair along the way. He stumbled forward; almost falling on his face but his metal foot dug into the floor and kept him from falling to the floor.

“Hiccup has told me so much about you! Weren’t you the one to distract the Screaming Death away from me? Well, just don’t stand there, come on in. We were just about to start dinner,” Stoick moved out of the way to reveal a bewildered brunet who looked like he had just stepped in between a hungry dragon and their food. Actually, with the sling peeking out from underneath the folds of the Druid’s cloak and his dirty clothing, he looked more like the aftermath of getting between Meatlug and her granite.

“Uh, thank you? I uh, brought over some venison. And, uh, I had Toothless help me care it, what with my arm and all,” Jackson made a gesture to his limp arm with his ever present staff as the Chief of Berk ushered the comparatively small to him teenager through the door.

Indeed, following behind him was said Night Fury. Hiccup hadn’t even been aware Toothless had wondered off, the last he had seen of the dragon was when he was on top of the Haddock hut’s roof, diligently watching the sky in case any of the Boulder-class dragon hatchlings came back while Thornado patrolled the ground. Yet, here he was holding a few ropes in his mouth to suspend a large chuck of meat several inches from the ground and looking quite pleased with himself.

“How’d you get him to help?” Hiccup could not help blurting out in amazement as vivid green eyes took in the Night Fury at the Druid’s side. Even one of his father’s eyebrow rose at the sight, not quite believing what he was seeing.

Toothless wasn’t known to help the villagers – none of the dragons did in all honesty – unless his rider had coaxed him into it and he would usually ignore or growl at any villager who dared to request something of him depending on the person. There had been one case where he had even become violent and shot a small plasma blast at the Viking. However, since it was Mildew and the grouch had asked the dragon to take his last breathe, no one could blame him.

“I bribed him with fish,” Jackson replied without any shame which drew two pair of green eyes away from the dragon and back towards the grinning Druid.

“That would do it,” the teenage Viking groaned and shot the dragon a pointed look. Toothless didn’t even have the decency to look guilty. No, he actually looked very proud of himself for getting a few fish out of the Druid for doing practically nothing.

“That’s a fine piece of meat, how about we cook this up for dinner instead of having that goulash Norbert sent over. Sounds good?” Stoick asked slapping the brunet on the back which had the teenager stumbling forward and Hiccup winced in sympathy. He had been on the receiving end of those slaps various of times and had been knocked over a few times before he learned how to catch his balance within a moment’s notice all because his father didn’t know his own strength.

“Uh,” shifting his weight, amber eyes darted from one Haddock to the next. Not certain on what was happening and looking for answers.

“Sounds great Dad!” the Viking cutoff anything Jackson could say as he came around the taller teen and pushed the baffled brunet towards the table.

“Great,” the chief beamed reliving the large piece of meat from Toothless with one hand.

“I have a feeling that I am missing something here, something big,” the Druid whispered as he artfully removed himself from Hiccup’s manhandling. Yet, he still somehow managed to end up exactly where the auburn haired teenager intended for him; sitting in one of the chairs furthest away from his father. With the man busy cutting the ropes off the venison with his axe – which was even more over kill than normal for him, but since Gobber had fixed the weapon, he was just raring to use it – he wouldn’t hear their discussion.

“Uh, yeah, about that. I was going to invite you to dinner, but with everything which happened today… I kinda…. Forgot,” Hiccup finished lamely rubbing the back of his neck and offered what he hoped was an apologetic look. Even to his own ears, it sounded flat and did not hold up to scrutiny. “Sorry?”

The reaction he got wasn’t what the Dragon Rider was expecting. He wasn’t expecting anything really, maybe a joking comment or two about the last few days or for amber eyes to roll at the absurdity of it all.   Hiccup was not prepared for Jackson stiffen while ethereal eyes slowly slid across the table and towards his father before lowering to his lap where hands fiddled with his staff. He definitely was not prepared for a voice so soft that Hiccup could barely hear yet the clear longing and earnest was unmistakable and couldn’t be hidden.

“You were going to invite me for dinner?”

The hand that had been rubbing his neck slowly fell to his side and he gave the brunet a worried. Had he made some sort of faux pas of some kind? They had eaten together at the Great Hall that one time, so it couldn’t have been the eating together. So it had to be something to do with inviting him over to his hut. Was there some weird Druid custom about inviting them over? Did he just commit some kind of Druid Taboo? That would be bad, very bad. Was there something he could do to make up for committing a Druid Taboo?

“I was,” the Viking fought back a cringe, dearly hoping he hadn’t committed a Druid Taboo but not wanting to lie either. He tried to think of something to say, to make things right but came up empty handed.

“I’ve never been invited to someone’s house for dinner before,” Jackson mumble still fumbling with the piece of wood in his lap and refusing to look up.

The Dragon Rider momentarily flashed back to earlier in the day when Toothless all but picked him up, trying to drag him to go see the brunet. But he hadn’t wanted to go and invite the Druid to dinner because he hadn’t want to humiliate himself and didn’t that make Hiccup feel like dragon dung? Jackson definitely did not need to know he had done everything in his power to get out of asking the Druid that very same question. He hastily brushed the thought away – already feeling worse than dragon dung – in favor of answering Jackson.

“Well, we’d love to have you, right Bud?” the Dragon Rider gave a feeble smile when he saw amber eyes peering out from under brown locks and turned towards Toothless to hide the guilt he was sure was painted across his face.

The dragon gave him his most unimpressed look, eyes narrowed and ear-plates drooping low. However, upon noticing Jackson’s eyes on him, the Night Fury’s whole demeanor changed. He sat up straight, ear-plates perking up and his eyes became wide and innocent looking. An uplifting warble from Toothless had a frail smile tugging at the brunet’s lips.

“So, Jackson, how are you liking Berk so far?” Stoick unknowingly gave his son a reprieve from his mortified state by drawing the Druid’s attention towards the chief and away from his sun.

The man had long since put the axe to the side and had been busy inspecting the meat. A few of the fatter pieces had been cut off and paced to the side, though – thankfully – Stoick had been using a smaller blade at the time and not the axe. Grabbing the slab of meat, he headed over to the hearth and picked up a metal rod resting nearby. Skewering the venison on the spit, Stoick placed the rod over the open flames to roast.

“It’s…nice. Different from where I am from,” Jackson answered, fiddling with his staff which drew vivid green eyes to the fingers running up and down the wood for a third time that night. Hiccup was starting to see a pattern and was beginning to believed the gesture might just be a nervous habit. It was a gesture he would have to look out for to determine if it truly was a nervous tick or not. “But it is worth getting use too. Especially the dragons, I really like the dragons.”

Toothless crooned at the admission and rubbed his head against the Druid’s side. Jackson chuckled, his fingers finally stilling on his staff. The brunet set the crook on his lap and reached out, scratching the Night Fury beneath his chin. The dragon all but became boneless at the Druid’s petting. Acid green eyes closing as Toothless leaned into the touch and purred in delight.

“So you don’t have dragons from where you’re from?” Stoick asked causing his son’s head to snap in his direction. The boy than began to made frantic gestures to cease and desist with the line of questioning but the chief completely missed the movements.

“No, they were all whipped out in the Great Purges,” the Druid’s hand creased scratching the Night Fury’s chin and drew back in while amber eyes drifted down in to his lap as fingers began to fidget with his staff once again.

Acid green eyes sprang open at the loss of the pleasant sensation and the dragon’s content croons tapered off. Toothless, not liking that the petting had stopped, butted his head gently against Jackson’s side insisting on the scratches to begin again. Something which had the brunet shaking his head fondly at the Night Fury’s antics but he relented and scratched under Toothless’s chin once more. While the Druid was seemingly occupied, Hiccup hastily made his way around the table to confront his father.

“Dad, did you have to ask him that?” the Viking hissed quietly in an attempt to keep Jackson from hearing them. It would seem the Dragon Rider was making a habit of his own tonight, one that consisted of clandestine conversations between one of the two other occupants in the hut.

“What?” Stoick asked in a not so quiet whisper which had auburn hair whipping around to make sure the Druid had heard. He sighed in relief when he saw Jackson kneeling on the ground, rubbing Toothless’s belly who was purring in pleasure. One of the Night Fury’s back legs was kicking the air in time with the brunet’s scratches.

Satisfied they wouldn’t be overheard, the Viking’s attention turned back to his father. “The king of Jackson’s homelands had anyone who was even remotely associated with magic killed, including Jackson’s parents and pretty much all dragons. He hadn’t even seen a dragon in person until he was attacked by a pride of Changewings in the Barbaric Archipelago.”

“So the boy’s all alone?” the chief’s eyes gained a new gleam to them as they traveled over and came to a rest on Jackson. “Wait, he _survived_ an encounter with a pride of Changewings?”

“Mmhmm, which is why he’s been living with Gobber. It’s not only because he’s an orphan, but because Gobber’s new dragon, Grump, was the one to save him from the Changewings,” Hiccup nodded, assisting his dad by turning the spit to cook the other side of the meat since the bottom was blackened by char. “Just… just don’t bring up his homelands.”

“Got it,” Stoick whispered harshly before turning his attention back to the Druid, voice once again its normal – albeit loud – level. “Jackson, why don’t you tell me about yourself; I like to know all the Vikings on Berk.”

“A good trait for a leader, something a few Guardians should have learned,” Jackson remarked from where he sat on the floor, the second part of his comment had Stoick looking at Hiccup for explanation, who shook his head just as confused as his father. “First of all, I’m not a Viking, I’m a Druid.”

“A Druid?” the man asked scratching his beard at the unfamiliar word. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of them.”

“I don’t suppose you would, our homelands are pretty far off,” the brunet shrugged it off, finally being allowed to quit petting Toothless without the dragon insisting on more.

Stoick, ignoring the dirty looks his son was sending him, sat down in his own chair and looked at the boy on the floor. “I’d like to hear more, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” Jackson shook his head and rearranged himself in to a more comfortable position. He ended up sitting cross-legged on the floor with his staff laying across his lap and absentmindedly rubbing his injured shoulder. “Druids are mostly peaceful people but there are few exceptions to the rule. Most Druids are nomadic and move from one settlement to the next in order to live in tandem with natural. The Druid Clan Taliesin – from which I am descended from through my Mom – had a permanent encampment in The Valley of the Fallen Kings.

“Well, it was permanent until the settlement had to be abandoned during the Great Purges. Before leaving, the Taliesin clan concealed the location of The Valley through strong enchanted and spells so the king couldn’t destroy what lay hidden within its depths: the Crystal Cave. For it is said, the Crystal Cave is the birthplace of magic and with its location secreted away, protected by the spirit of the Taliesin clan from anyone who would wish to destroy it, magic can continue to thrive.”

“The birthplace of magic? So your whole clan was like Gothi?” Stoick ask sitting up straighter and leaning slightly forward, something Hiccup had only seen his father do when he was completely absorbed in a council meeting and was truly interested in what was being said.

Hiccup couldn’t help but smile. He had a feeling his father would be drawn in to Jackson’s tale. He had witnessed it again and again with so many other Vikings. Many of them would come by to drop of their children or younger siblings for one of the Druid’s weekly story time only to end up staying themselves when the brunet began to weave his tales, drawing them in.

“Actually Dad, from what Jackson has told us, some of the members of his clan were even more powerful than Gothi,” the auburn haired teenager explained as he helped take the blacken meat off the fire. “On their scales, Gothi would be on the lower end of average for their shamans. Isn’t that right?”

“Well, since I still haven’t met Gothi yet, I’m basing my judgement on what I’ve been told and from that I estimate she is in the range of a shaman at an average level of abilities,” the Druid agreed, eyes darting from Stoick to the ground, a light flush on his face. “I mean no disrespect to your healer, sir.”

“None taken,” the concern of the chief’s mustache twitched up in amusement. The boy was adorable, thinking a little of comment like that would offend him. He had numerous derogatory comments made about him and members of his tribe by others which were meant to cause him harm, the boy’s comment about Gothi wouldn’t have even registered if he hadn’t made a big deal about it. “And how would you fair on this scale of your?”

“Even lower than Gothi,” the flush on Jackson’s checks became even darker as he ducked his head. Though, the brunet’s admission with no hesitation surprised Stoick. Vikings weren’t known for admitting weaknesses, so to hear a child admit to one was a different experience for the seasoned chief.

“But still pretty good, you did make that folded sunshine that helped us out today,” Hiccup pointed out, struggling with the large platter filled with the cooked meat.

“That was no big deal,” the Druid looked to the side, cheeks already pink yet the color was spreading to his ears and down his neck.

“Folded sunshine? Was that what the bright flash of light? The one that distracted the Screaming Death?” Stoick inquired taking the platter from his son with a single hand and placing it in the center of the table.

“Yeah, and we used it down in the caverns when my lantern got broken too,” the Dragon Rider walked around the table and collected the clean dishes. He turned around, only to almost run into Jackson who plucked the cutlery off the top of plates with a smile and began to help set the table.

“Well, what else can you do?” Stoick watched as the pair of teenagers worked together placing the settings. Jackson had a little trouble separating the utensils and hold them with only his one good hand while also clenching his staff between his body and his incapacitated arm. He ended up just holding the wooden cutlery out for Hiccup take when needed.

“With magic?” the brunet tilted his head back, looking upwards as if he would find the answer there. He ended up shaking his head and looked back down with a small smile on his face. “Nothing more really, most magic I know is knowledge base and working with the Balance of Nature. In my home settlement, I was referred to as Jack of All Trades, since I knew a little about a lot of things but wasn’t great at any one thing. In the spring I would help gather wild herbs, berries, and eatable vegetation, I would help the hunters in the summer by skinning and tanning hide, while in fall I would help the farmers with their harvests and herds. The winter was spent with my mom, making new clothing and furthering my studies.”

“And now you’re working at the forge,” the chief drummed his fingertips against the tabletop, curious at how the brunet had managed to do all he had said. He had no doubt Jackson did do all he was saying, it was just hard to believe the waif of the boy could do so when it looked like a harsh breeze would blow him away.

“Not really, I mostly work on applying the leather handles to the hilts and making sheaths. Hiccup and Gobber usually man the forge,” Jackson denied shaking his head. “I’m not cut out for that kind of work. It’s too hot for my taste and I know when I don’t have a talent for something. I did attempt to make a small blade but it just revealed to me what I already knew. I unquestionably do _not_ have the talent for metalwork, unlike Hiccup here. He’s a real genius at the forge.”

It was Hiccup’s turn to blush. “Well, according to rumors around Berk, you’re the go to for trades, you somehow are able to find get things in a few hours which usually take others days or even weeks to find or get ahold of on Berk.”

“That’s because I have help,” Jackson answered with an enigmatic smile handing the other teenager the last piece of cutlery. The Dragon Rider took the offer knife and handed it to his father. Stoick smiled, watching the byplay between the two teenagers as he began cutting the meat and serving it up on the plates. While he worked on serving them, the boys took the time to feed the dragons.

“From who? No one in Berk knows where to get some of the things you get your hands on,” Hiccup took the top off a large woven basket filled the brim with fish, Toothless eagerly waiting for it to be tipped over. “Would you open the door and call Thornado in please?”

“Sure,” the Druid agreed opening the hut door but needn’t have to call for the Tidal-class dragon as Thornado was already waiting on the other side and quickly lumbered in. He made a beeline towards the basket, which the auburn haired teenager tipped over and the two dragons began to inhale the fish. “Although, I see you’ve been keeping tabs on me. Besides, I never said it was humans helping me.”

“The dragons?” Hiccup guessed sitting down at the table while Jackson took the seat next to him.

“Well yeah, Grump has helped me with the hunting. But no, I’m talking about the Wyldfae. This whole archipelago is teaming with wild magic and Creatures of Magic that are happy to help given a little compensation,” the brunet eyed the large piece of meat on his plate before looking over to Hiccup’s plate with an equal size cut of venison.

“Wyldfae?” Stoick eyebrows furrowed together as he cut the enormous piece of venison on his plate.

“Yeah, here I’ll show you,” Jackson set down his knife he had been toying with and got up. Pulling out a thimble size bowl from the pouch on his belt, he looked around before picking up a wilted flower from the vase on the table. “Do you mind?”

With a shake of his head, the chief watched as the Druid crushed it up and place it in the tiny bowl before setting it in the middle of the table.

“Usually, you have to put them outside in a ring of stone, but-” the brunet explained pausing before he let out a rhythmic melodious sounding whistle. Toothless perked up at the sound and began looking around the room, his eyes settling on the stairs and his ear-plates twitching as if he was listening to something. Thornado shortly thereafter tilted his head in the same direction as the Night Fury’s ear-plates, listening to whatever Toothless heard was as well.   Soon, Hiccup and Stoick heard the sound too, a soft tinkering like bell sound. A ball of blue light drifted down the staircase, hovering at the bottom for a second before making a beeline towards Jackson. “-Periwinkle and a few others make an exception for me.”

“By the gods!” Stoick leaned down to look at the little ball of light when it landed on the table allowing him and his son to clearly see a small humanoid being with wings. “It’s one of the Wee Folk. I never thought I would see the day, your mom used to hell me stories of such beings.”

“Mom knew about them?” vivid green eyes pulled themselves away from the little white haired humanoid with blue eyes to look at his father. The man hardly ever spoke of his mother and when he did, it wasn’t much but Hiccup coveted everything he could learn about her.

“Yes, she loved the tales of the Wee Folk, always told me to be careful when traveling alone in the forest unless I ran across one of the Sidhe who would try to entrap me through bargains and deals,” Stoick said reminiscing watching as the little faerie take the crumbled up flower out of the small wooden bowl and sniffed at it before stuffing it into a small bag which seemed to be made out of a leaf and some twine for a strap.

“Sidhe?” the auburn haired Viking’s confusion clear in his voice, his gaze turning back to the little humanoid to really study her. Like her small bag, her clothing was made up of little things he took for grant. A blue petal wrapped around her upper half with a few white feathers peeking out from the bottoms keep her warm while leaves were fashioned into leggings to cover her other half. She even had tiny blue shoes made out of the same blue petals as her top.

“They are the nobility of the fae, aligned with one of the two courts: Summer and Winter,” Jackson paused, shuttering as if remembering something awful about the Sidhe. “Wyldfae usually refer to those not affiliated with either court and are much more friendly to deal with, like Periwinkle here and her friends. They’ve been helping me find items the villagers want.”

“In trade for what?” the chief asked as Periwinkle finished filling her bag and began wondering around the table. She stayed away from anything metal looking, which would be the knives, the axe, and the platter with the venison, everything else was free game for the curious little Wyldfae. A high pitch chime came from the Wee Folk when she found the vase was filled with water.

The brunet shook his head and smiled as he watched Periwinkle fly up to land on the lip of the vase, peering down at the water. “Nothing at the moment. They feel indebted to me for getting the children of Berk to believe in them and leave them offerings in the rowan bowls.”

“Valka never mentioned offerings,” Stoick’s eyes fixated on the little Dewdrop Faerie who was dipping a few of the crushed pedals into the water and rubbing them over her skin. “What’s she doing?”

“Freshening up after spending the day in the smithy; she’s trying to get rid of the iron smell. They don’t like most metals with very few exceptions,” Jackson explained picking up the tiny wooden bowl and replacing it in his pouch.

Hiccup grinned as dinner with Jackson went on without a hitch. It wasn’t going as horrible as he originally thought it would and it was turning out to be an enjoyable evening. While his father and the Druid were busy chatting about fae, the auburn haired Dragon Rider discretely switched his plate of cut up venison with Jackson’s. Hopefully, now the brunet would eat something.


	19. Race to Kindle a Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my! I love you all, the reviews given were awesome and I'm so glad you all like the last chapter so much.
> 
> To Eo: You have made my week! You're the first person to catch on - or at least mention it to me - about the Disir. As for why Vadderung swiped Jack's staff and cloak, it was in regards to Hiccup's prayer. *Hint, hint*

Jack made his way through the village. It was three days after the Screaming Death’s invasion and most of the village was half way through with their reconstruction efforts. He had helped where he could with his arm currently in a sling – courtesy of Kalda, Terrotrhi’s terrifying shieldmaiden of a mother – but there wasn’t much he could do. Mostly, he had stayed out of the Vikings’ way and kept the children occupied with stories and games.

Currently he was headed to the Dragon Training Academy to retrieve Hiccup for Gobber. With him not being able to work at the stall, the blacksmith wanted his apprentice to man the forge while he took over the jobs Jack usually did. The ex-spirit felt slightly guilty he couldn’t help out more yet at the same time it gave him more time to explore the wilderness of Berk, searching for any type of clue on why the Disir and magic needed him in past. He found nothing so far.

Jack had even sought out Mr. Vadderung for some help but the old man was at a loss as well. Thankfully, the man had said he would keep an eye out for anything which might help him return to the future. The Guardian wasn’t sure if the god would find anything or not. Still, with him and the Wyldfae actively searching instead of just him, Jack felt he had a bit better chance on getting home than he had searching alone.

Reaching the Academy arena, he walked around the top, looking down through the chain dome to find all the riders and their dragons standing around a motionless, off colored Monstrous Nightmare. The Head of the Academy was closest to Hookfang, walking around the dragon and reading from a giant leather tome in his hands. Curiously, the Guardian crouched down near the edge, hooking his staff on to a part of the chain dome to help keep his balanced and listened to what was going on below.

“All right. No fire… check,” Hiccup said looking from the book to the barely breathing dragon. It was then Jack realized the Vikings were examining Hookfang and wondered what was wrong. It was obvious the Monstrous Nightmare was tired judging by the half lidded eyes and stationary state. “Pale coloration… check. Flaking scales… check.”

“See? He's fine,” Snotlout stepped forward and gestured to the dragon. Yet, his voice was small and apprehensive, more like he was trying to convince himself Hookfang was alright than convincing Hiccup of the fact. His voice then became even fainter and it was only thanks to the wind blowing in his direction that Jack heard what was said next.   “Checks are good, right?”

Tuffnut, who had been lounging on one of the wooden walls used for obstacle courses, rolled his eyes and answered for Hiccup in his most sarcastic voice. “Totally.”

Snotlout glared at the blond Viking and Jack knew the other burnet would have said something, probably threatened Tuffnut with some kind of bodily harm but his attention was pulled back to the Monstrous Nightmare when Hookfang let out the most pathetic grumbling the ex-spirit had ever heard coming from the usually proud dragon. He scarcely managed to push himself up and unsteadily crawled away on his dewclaws towards his opened stall where, having used up the remaining amount of energy he had, the Monstrous Nightmare flopped down in the bedding. It didn’t appear to Jack like he would be moving again anytime soon.

“Hiccup, any one of those symptoms would not be good, but together, really not good,” amber eyes were drawn back towards the Vikings where Fishlegs had come up behind Hiccup and was wriggling his hands together agitatedly as he delivered the bad news.

“So what are you saying?” the auburn haired teenager closed the book and turned his attention to the heavyset Viking which had Jack corking an eyebrow. He had assumed as the Head of the Academy, Hiccup was the dragon expert of the group. But to see the teenager relying on Fishlegs more than the book he currently held, it had him reassessing the dynamics of the group.

“According to _The Book of Dragons_ , a Monstrous Nightmare can lose its ability to generate flame,” Fishlegs gestured to the dragon whose breathing had become shallower while his tongue had lolled out the side of his maw giving Hookfang a wretched appearance.

“But why?” Astrid’s voice floated up and Jack had to lean further over the side to see the shieldmaiden standing just below him with her hand on a hip.

“Lots of reasons: old age, injury, exhaustion,” the heavyset Viking listed off on his fingers which had the Head of the Academy flipping back through the tome in his hand, searching for what, the ex-spirit could only guess. Most likely, he was searching for a cure.

“Pushed too hard by his stubborn rider,” the shieldmaiden spat which had amber eyes traveling back over to a certain irritated Viking. Jack did not like the implications of such words and while he was still getting to know the members of the Academy, the Guardian had pegged down the brawny Viking as competitive. Snotlout had the need to be the best, but Jack thought the boy was okay if a little insecure with his lower position underneath Hiccup. However, that was no reason to drive a dragon to exhaustion out of sheer pride.

“I heard that and I always work him this hard. So he's a little low on flame. What's the cure?” Snotlout demand, waving off the accusation like it was nothing and Jack hadn’t wish more for his power since coming to the past than he did at the moment. He would have definitely nipped at the boy’s nose as Emma Bennett would say and make sure there were a lot of patches of ice for him to trip on.

There was a pause and everyone turned to look at Fishlegs who fidgeted under their combined gaze. Clearly, whatever he knew wasn’t going to be good news if he wasn’t volunteering the information immediately. Ruffnut, who was leaning against the wooden wall her brother was sitting on, finally got the heavyset Viking taking by throwing a stone at him which harmlessly bounced off his belly.

“That's the thing with Stoker-class dragons. Once they lose their flaming ability, they become completely defenseless and…”

Jack really didn’t like what he was hearing, especially with Fishlegs trailing off at the end. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach and the Guardian had a feeling that if he had eaten this morning, his food would have made a reappearance at the inferences alone. He was not the only one to feel that way, most of the Vikings below had lost a little color from their faces and the arena had become deadly silent.

“What are you saying, Fishlegs?” Snotlout attempted to keep his voice even yet there was a slight tenor underneath which wavered near the end.

“I'm saying Hookfang is in trouble,” the heavyset Viking sighed sadly, glancing over at the sick dragon and back to his rider where he steeled himself. “And we need to do something now.”

From his vantage point, Jack could only see Snotlout’s frame go ridged before storming over to the Monstrous Nightmare. “Hookfang, don't listen to those guys,” the Viking grabbed on to the dragon’s horns and trying to pull him up so they could leave. Hookfang made an attempted to comply with his rider’s wishes yet his legs were shaky at best and the ex-spirit knew the dragon could not stay up for long. “They don't know what they're talking about. You're Hookfang. You're a warrior indestructible, like me. Right?”

Jack had had enough when Hookfang whimpered as his trembling became worse. “Wrong.”

Swinging from his staff hooked on to the dome’s chains, the Guardian dropped through the gaps and slid down the staff. When he reached the end he tightened his grip and halted his decent. Shifting his weight upwards, he dislodged the croak from the chain and dropped the rest of the way down to the lower ground. Never once did he disturb his injured shoulder.

“Hookfang is a true warrior. _You_ , you’re just a disgrace. Treating your friend like he doesn’t matter, just look at him,” Jack seethed pointing his staff to the dragon who was currently laboring to breathe much less stay standing.

The Dragon Riders were stunned at the brunet’s entrance. Tuffnut fell off of his perch, failing to keep his balance and landed next to his twin. Yet, he didn’t appear to notice, wide blue eyes entirely fixated on the coiled form of Jack who appeared ready to strike. In fact, all of the members of the Academy’s attention were drawn to the Druid with his cloak billowing in a breeze which wrapped around him and amber eyes hard, almost glowing.

It took a moment for any of them to react to his sudden appearance, but unsurprisingly it was Snotlout who reacted first. Letting go of the Hookfang’s horns, he took a threatening step towards Jack. Dark blue eyes met ethereal amber and it was only because of his growing rage the Viking did not look away from the abnormal color.

“What would you know?” the muscular growled out, waving a fist intimidatingly in front of the taller teenager’s face. Jack didn’t even flinch, his eyes only narrowing while a sneer crossed his face.

“I know more than you could even dream of. For instance, I know as Magical Creatures of Fire, a dragon’s flame is essentially their life and Hookfang’s flame is more or less nonexistent,” the Druid batting away the fist with this staff as if it were a pesky Terrible Terror. “And I know it was your fault. So either get your act together and help Hookfang or face the consequence of your actions.

“I know what I would do and I know what a _true_ _warrior_ would do. What I don’t know is if it is the same as what _you_ would do though,” Jack growled out walking pass a stunned Snotlout and kneeling next to Hookfang. “Shh, it’s okay, just lay down and rest. We’ll get you feeling better in no time. There’s no need to worry, it’s not your time to face the White Goddess.”

“He’s right you know,” Astrid said walking up to stand beside the motionless brawny Viking. “You are a warrior, aren’t you?”

He was quiet for a moment, before Snotlout turned on his heels and stormed out of the arena, grabbing the back of Fishlegs’ fur tunic as he went. “Come on Fishfeet, you’re going to help me find a cure. And you two!” Snotlout rounded on the twins, pointing at them “take care of Hookfang while I’m gone or else you’ll never be pain free again!”

“Got it,” the twins fumbled to stand up straight and saluted Snotlout. They ended up hitting each other in the face with the elbows, but didn’t move with stony blue eyes glaring at them.

“You better,” he growled out, proceeding in storming out while dragging a protesting Fishlegs behind him.

“Wow, I’ve never seen anyone get under Snotlout’s skin as Jackson does,” the ex-spirit vaguely heard Astrid say to Hiccup as he tended to Hookfang. “Well, except for you.”

“Gee thanks,” the auburn haired teenager grumbled and Jack couldn’t hold back the smile on his face as he continued to rub circles across the Monstrous Nightmare’s scales to increase circulation.

“Uh, what are we supposed to do?” Ruffnut asked, the twins finally falling from attention and looking around, bewildered now that Snotlout wasn’t there to threaten them.

“You’re supposed to be getting me fresh well water and the strongest alcohol you can get that is _not_ mead.   Tuffnut get some hawthorn berries, the ripper the better,” the Guardian prompt as a memory bubbled to the surface of his mind of the time his mother taught him about the properties of plants.

“Right?” Tuffnut nodded his head and heading for the exit before doing a one-eighty. “Just one question, why?”

“Hawthorn helps regulate heart rhythm and improving blood flow from the heart. Additionally, it improves the condition of the heart muscles to help assist in healthy and regular contractions with its restorative properties,” Jack relayed the words of his mother’s memory.

“Uh,” the blond Viking scratched his head and looked to his sister for help who was also scratching her head with the same dazed gaze on her face.

“It will keep Snotlout from thrashing you,” the brunet rolled his eyes.

“Oh, right,” the twin grinned at each other as the words dawned on them, their faces fell and the scrambled to mounted Barf and Belch. Too frantic were they that neither noticed they had climbed on the wrong head and were having a little bit of a problem as they flew out of the arena.

When the twins were gone, a silence fell over those still there. The only sound which could be heard was the labored breathing of Hookfang and the occasional murmur of encouragement from the Guardian. At one point, Jack thought he heard some kind of hushed conversation coming from the last two Dragon Riders but he couldn’t be sure. His focus was entirely on the Monstrous Nightmare and soothing his pain.

“So, why are you here?” Astrid asked, walking up beside him with Hiccup at her side.

“Gobber needs Hiccup’s help at the forge. Said something about Aurvandil's Fire coming soon and he need all the help he could get to ready for it. He sent me to get him. I think he would understand this is more important though,” Jack replied, amber eyes never leaving the dragon so he never noticing the way Astrid stiffened at his words or how Hiccup threw worriedly glanced over at the shieldmaiden.

* * *

“Hiccup, we’ve found something from the _Bork Papers_ regarding reigniting a Stoker-class dragon's flame,” Fishlegs yelled running into the arena waving a few parchments of paper in the air. Snotlout was not far behind him, lumbering to carry an armful of papers, scrolls, and small leather journals while the Gronckle rider only held a few pieces of paper. Shoving one of those papers into Hiccup’s hands, Fishlegs pointed to the sketching that took up the majority of the page.

The picture depicted a dragon being held in palm of a person’s hand. Its body elongated to accompany its five pairs of legs and instead of having one curved nose horn like most dragons had, the imaged portrayed a nose horn which spread out into multiple little horns. Little spines came out of the crown of the drawn dragon’s wide head and small eyes were located near the end of its maw. There were a few notes to the side of the sketch which informed them that the species of dragon had fierce eyes which glow in the dark. Another note stated the species had dark gray scales with orangeish-brown skin underneath which – when heat – glowed white-red and could sometimes light their bodies on fire.

“Fireworm dragons,” Hiccup instantly recognized the tiny dragons in the picture having dealt with them a time or two.

“Or as Bork referred to them, ‘The Flame Eaters,’” Fishlegs whispered in awe.

"Flame Eaters,” Tuffnut drew out the name. His face scrunched in a thoughtful expression, although it appeared a little pained too. “We should be Flame Eaters.”

“Cool!” Ruffnut exclaimed spinning around and around in circles for a reason which only made sense to her. Completing her last spin, the blonde Viking punched her brother and laughed when he let out a yelp of pain. Everyone else just seemed to ignore their behavior.

“Fireworms are Stoker-class dragons too. There must be something in them that can help reignite the Monstrous Nightmare,” vivid green eyes scanned the old piece of parchment while his voice became higher and louder with each passing word. “Okay, Astrid, the twins, and I will round up as many Fireworms as we can find. Fishlegs, keep reading.”

“What about me?” Snotlout cried out, dumping the items he held on the ground in order to use both hands to gesture to himself; a lost expression on the usually confident Viking’s face.

Hiccup looked at him and after a quick decision he hoped wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass, the Head of the Academy nodded his head over towards Hookfang and the Druid sitting at the dragon’s side. “You and Jackson stay with your dragon.   He needs you.”

The auburn hair Dragon Rider didn’t give the burnet Viking any room to argue, mounting Toothless and taking off. The remaining Dragon Riders followed after him, save for Fishlegs who was busy collecting his precious books and papers Snotlout had careless drop to the ground. Though, he too left loaded down by his research material to continue his search for an additional cure, oddly enough, Meatlug didn’t follow her rider. Instead, she stayed behind and snuggled up against Hookfang, crooning softly to sooth the sick dragon.

Jack continued to ignore the other’s presence, even when Snotlout came to stand next to him. He busied himself with awkwardly picking the rest of the berries off the whole branches the twins had brought him with his one good arm, having picked those he need earlier. The Guardian could not have cared less about the tense silence between them or that the Viking was shifting nervously from foot to foot beside him. Jack kept telling himself this whole situation was his fault and he deserved to feel uncomfortable.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen, you know?” Snotlout broke the thickening atmosphere.

Jack glanced at the Viking out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t acknowledge him passed that. There was only the sound of the two dragons’ breathing and the ruffling of leaves as the brunet harshly yanked off the berries, yet the Monstrous Nightmare rider wouldn’t allow things to rest there. He was determined to explain himself or so it would seem as he started talking; although, who he was trying to explain his actions to – Hookfang or Jack? Or was it himself? – was a mystery.

“I was just trying to prepare him for the Outcasts and the Screaming Death,” Snotlout rubbed his chest with a clenched fist. “The others’ probably don’t remember, but I had a sibling: an older sister. She was killed during a dragon attack; died saving me, because I was too weak and useless and _just stood there doing nothing_. Ever since then, dad always pushed me to do better, saying that ‘Rest is for the Weak’. My mom, before she succumb to the Heart Sickness, explained it was his way of coping with my sister’s lost. It was his way of showing he cared and I… I just wanted Hookfang to be ready: to survive.”

The Guardian had relented on ripping the berries from the branch and began plucking them off slower and more gently as the Viking spoke. Near the end, he had completely stopped what he was doing, but continued to stare at his staff on laying on his lap. Reflecting on his sister and what he had done to keep her save.

“I can understand that,” more than the Viking would ever know, Jack could sympathize with Snotlout. He had done the same as the Dragon Rider’s sister, both had given their lives for their younger siblings. “You feared for your friend’s safety and tried to better prepare him for what might come. Yet, in preparing him for what could be, you were the one to endanger him. You let your fears control you.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t be afraid, everyone is afraid at some point in their lives even if they won’t admit it. It’s okay to be afraid, it’s not okay to let your fears consume you and control your whole life. Because, if you do, all you’ll end up doing is hurting those you care about. Control your fears, don’t let them control you.”

Snotlout looked at him strangely, but Jack pretended not to notice him. Instead, he reached over and checked the tincture he had already made from the alcohol, well water, and hawthorn berries the twins had gotten. Typically, such a tincture would take weeks to prepare, but they did not have the time for it to set properly. As it was, the potency would be weak without it setting for a length of time. Still, he slowly feed Hookfang the bitter liquid, because something was better than nothing.

He had attempted to speed up the process by grinding up the hawthorn into a thick paste using the well water before mixing the paste into the alcohol and had Meatlug superheat the liquid with a lava blast. The resulting tincture had an odd shimmering tint to it, yet the liquid seemed to help since Hookfang’s scale were no longer flaking off and didn’t appear to be getting any duller as they had been. They hadn’t brightened any either, which worried the ex-spirit.

From there, it was a waiting game for the other Dragon Riders to return. This time the atmosphere wasn’t so tense and Jack had even asked Snotlout for assistance in removing the last of the berries from the branches. At the Viking’s resolved determination to help Hookfang however he could, he asked Jack showed him how to make another tincture with the remaining ingredients which the Guardian was more than happy to comply with.

So it must have been an odd sight when the others returned on foot with their dragons trailing behind to find the two brunets that had been at each other’s throat not long ago now working together. Wisely, no one commented on the change and instead listened to Fishlegs as he instructed them to place two or so dozen Fireworms around Hookfang. They had to use iron grips, ones Hiccup must have gotten from the forge, to pick up the glowing dragons. By the time they had place them all around the Monstrous Nightmare, night had fallen.

They waited around the dragons, Jack wasn’t sure what the Fireworms were supposed to do. However, all he could see was the tiny dragons glowing brighter as the Dragon Riders placed more and more around Hookfang. Other than that, nothing seemingly happened. Hookfang didn’t appear any better than he had since he had administered the tincture, he actually looked worse in his opinion.

“Nothing,” Hiccup sighed in disappointed after they waited around for a while more, which had the muscular Viking’s shoulders slumping. Vivid green eyes immediately took noticed and backtracked in an attempt to reassure Snotlout. “Well, that might not have worked, but-”

“Maybe he can drink this,” Tuffnut interrupted, shoving the auburn haired teenager out of the way and presenting a bowl filled with some kind of liquid. Though, what really drew Jack’s attention was the bandages covering all of the Hideous Zippleback rider’s fingers that had definitely not been there before.

“W-what…what is that?” the Head of the Dragon Academy stumbled, looking over the taller Viking’s shoulders and down into the bowl.

“Fireworm milk,” Ruffnut proclaimed proudly, crossing her arms over her puffed out chest.

"Fireworm milk?" Astrid echoed looking towards Fishlegs for confirmation.

The heavyset Viking grimaced and held up one finger. “Um… Tuffnut, I don't think you can actually milk a Fireworm?”

“Oh, great. Thanks,” Tuffnut angrily waved one of his bandage covered hands at the husky Viking. “Where were you three hours ago?”

“Maybe we need to put the Fireworms on Hookfang, so he can absorb their heat directly,” Hiccup suggested in an attempt to redirect the growing nervous energy elsewhere. In this case, to get the Academy members to make more of an effort to save the sickly Monstrous Nightmare lying at their feet.

Snotlout’s face brightened at the suggestion, having gone grey with their failed attempts, and he grabbed Hiccup, shaking him by the shoulder in happiness. “Yeah. Yeah, good idea, Hiccup. Direct heat that makes sense. Well, what are you waiting for?”

Grabbing the metal grips again, the broad-shouldered teenager picked up the tiny dragon nearest to him and placed it on top of Hookfang. Looking to Hiccup, the other Dragon Riders followed suit when he gave them a small nod. Soon, little flames started to appear on the Monstrous Nightmare’s body where the Fireworms rested, resembling the flames Hookfang usually produced on his own.

“It's working,” Snotlout exclaimed excitedly as it appeared the dragon’s scales began to brighten from their dull state. No sooner had the words left his mouth than the flames flickered and gave out. The scales once more darkening, which had blue eyes frantically looking around for more of the tiny dragons where none were to be found. “We need more Fireworms now! You hear me? More Fireworms!”

“Snotlout, I think we've rounded up all the Fireworms on Berk,” Astrid regrettably informed the frantic Viking, walking closer yet she didn’t dare touch the brunet.

Not liking how Snotlout was folding into himself or sealing himself off from the rest of the Dragon Riders, Jack spoke up. “What about their own island? Finn mentioned something about it once, why don’t you get more Fireworms from there?”

“Fireworm Island!” Ruffnut cheered, holding up a pair of metal grips with a tiny dragon desperately fighting to be let lose.

“Fireworm Island? Is there even such a place?” Fishlegs asked looking around the group and landed on Hiccup and Astrid who were both nodding their heads.

“But how would we find this island? It is almost dark and Hookfang isn’t getting any better!” Snotlout gestured wildly to the grunting dragon whose eyes were closed but he didn’t appear to be sleeping.

“With a little help from some friends,” Jack reassured the Viking, laying a hand on the tense teenager’s tense shoulder. He then pursed his lips together and let out a harmonious whistle. The wind seemed to amplify the sound and only a beat passed between the whistling ending and a bright light buzzed over the top of Hiccup’s head.

“Periwinkle?” the auburn haired teenager guessed trying to catch sight of the ball of light.

“No, but one of her friends, Fawn knows almost all the migration patterns of animals and their natural habitats. Although, she will need a little incentive,” the brunet looked to the sky for the Wyldfae.

“We’ll pay the tribute,” Hiccup reassured and Jack nodded before setting up his tiny rowan bowl and let out another whistle, this one slightly different than the one he used to summon Periwinkle.

A blur darted through the arena and flew around the ex-spirit leaving behind a trail of burnt orange before landed in brown hair. Amber eyes met a tiny pair of amber eyes a few shades darker than his own which belonged to a slender little figure sporting an orange dress made out of a Tiger Lily with brown twine for a belt and a green anklet. Her long light brown hair was done up in a high braid and her fair skin showed off light freckles.

“What’s that?” Astrid awed gasped filled the area as she attempting to get a better look at the faint glowing light in Jack’s hair.

“That is a her and she is going to lead us to Fireworm Island,” the Head of the Dragon Academy grinned, knowing he had the very same look on his face days prior when he had been introduced to Periwinkle.

Astrid and Fishlegs, who were the closest to Jack, leaned closer in an endeavor to get a better look at the little figure. Fawn, upon noticing all the attention on her, dove back into locks of brown hair, releasing tiny distressed chimes.

“What the? Is that?” the shieldmaiden voice rose when she caught sight of wings on the back of the creature when they gave an agitated fluttered.

“A Wyldfae!” Tuffnut cheered.

“A Pixie!” Ruffnut cheered at the same time. The twins rounding on the other and glaring, arguing back and forth about if it was a pixie or a Wyldfae.

“This is Fawn a Wyldfae of Pixie Hollow,” Jack creased the argument by introducing the little fae in his hair. “She specializes in animals and can lead us to Fireworm Island, can’t yeah?”

The little Dewdrop Faerie jumped and flew around his head, chimes coming from the tiny ball of light before flying towards exit and stopping their bobbing up and down impatiently.

“She seems to be in a hurry, we better get going,” Jack said as a high pitch ring caused the humans and dragons alike to flitch at the sound. “So, who am I going to be flying with?”

Astrid took a step forward. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Yeah, you came with us to Dragon Island, but that was just supposed to be a simple training mission. And you did help with the Screaming Death, but again that was beyond our control. You aren’t trained for this; we have been for the last few years. You should stay here in Berk, where it is safe.”

Jack was floored. He didn’t know how to react to that comment. His first instinct was to laugh in the little girl’s face at her _years_ of training when he had _centuries_ of experience under him. The only reason _they_ had gotten out of situations mentioned was because of _his_ assistance. Which led him to his second reaction that was coming through more prevalent than his usual upbeat self, he was pissed.

Before he could open his mouth to let loss his growing anger, Astrid shot Hiccup a hard look which had the Head of the Academy stepping forward with a glance back at the shieldmaiden. “She’s right Jackson, we know what we’re getting in to. You don’t. You haven’t been trained like we have. Besides, you’re hurt; it’s best you stay here.”

The Guardian knew if his staff was an ordinary piece of wood, it would have broken under his white knuckled grip. As it was, the gnarled wood bit through his arm warmer and scrapped his palm reminding him where he was.

“Fine,” the brunet growled turning his back on Hiccup and out storming away. He would have marched right out of the Academy without another word. However, he stopped just short of the softly chiming ball of brunt orange light and turned towards Snotlout as a thought hit him. “Look after Fawn for me. I need someone too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After having all the good feels on last chapter, I feel bad on what I did in this chapter. I blame Astrid, since blaming Hiccup would grow real old, real soon because he keeps sticking his foot in his mouth when it comes to Jack.


	20. A Dream Filled Night, a Dreamless Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE OVER 100 REVIEWS!
> 
> All of you rock! Thank you for keeping with me and I hope you stay to the end.

Getting only a few feet out of the Dragon Academy’s dome, Jack broke into a flat out run. He wasn’t running towards the village though. He was running away from the village; away from _everything_. He didn’t know where he was going, he didn’t _care_ , he just wanted to be _gone_. He wanted to go _home_ ; he wanted to be back in Burgess with the Seven Brightest Lights and the other Guardians. He wanted to be able to fly with the winds again, to bring winter with a simple touch. Here in Berk he couldn’t do _any_ of that.

Here in Berk, he was _useless_. He wasn’t Jack Frost, he was Jackson Overland, incompetent teenager living in a village full of Vikings. He wasn’t lying to Stoick when he said he had multiple jobs when he was alive, he just didn’t point out that it was because people tended to foster him off on others. They didn’t want him around, only using him for an extract set of hands when they absolutely needed the help and no one else was available before sending him away at the end of the job.

That was the real reason he hadn’t a skill set of his own. Back when Burgess was known as Hawthorne, no one wanted to take the time to teach him, to be his mentor. Apparently he – and his mother – unnerved people and there were whispers words of warning spoken behind his back. Some of the warnings he knew were true and well deserved – he was a trickster at heart – while the remaining were spiteful words of witchcraft and black magic. The settlers’ children on the other hand didn’t hold their parents’ beliefs and were happy to have him around.

Jack was forced to slow down when his lungs began to scream at him and his vision began to darken around the edges due to lack of oxygen. He finally came to a complete stop surrounded by trees and large boulders. Not too far from him, he could hear the trickle of a stream or river and birds overhead chirping. But he didn’t care. The brunet just slid down to the ground, the end of his staff digging in the muddy ground and he could already feel the cold seep into his body as his clothes soaked in the moisture on the ground.

“What did I ever do to deserve this?” the immortal teenager asked in English – finding comfort in speaking in the language no one else understood – as he gazed down at the ground. “Father always said I was a heathen. That I was going to hell and I believed it too. But this? This is worse.

“Haven’t I paid enough penance? I was stripped of my memories for three hundred years and forced to live alone. I was just getting settled into my new life – afterlife – whatever hell this existence is and then all this? Please, please, I just want to go _home_. _Please take me home_ ,” Jack threw his head back, begging Manny, the White Goddess, magic, _anyone_ who would listen and grant him a reprieve.

Birds flew out of the trees and a few smaller dragons fled the area at the heart wrenching sound, yet the ex-spirit took no noticed. He continued to scream out all of his pent up emotions until his voice went hoarse and his throat felt like sandpaper. Jack would have continued to yell yet he was spent. Instead, he curled in to a ball and just sat there, an arm hooked around his staff while his wounded shoulder throbbed in pain.

The immortal teenager allowed his mind to go blank. Maybe if he sat there long enough, he wouldn’t have to deal with everything. He wouldn’t have to deal with _anything_. Jack had every intention of sitting there until his problems disappeared. Or maybe, he’d disappear.

However, the winds had other ideas and wouldn’t let him rest. They kept hassling him, circling around him and brushing through his hair. When that didn’t get a reaction, the winds started pulling at his clothing insistently. Yet even then, Jack didn’t respond. He had buried himself too far within his own mind to feel. It took a huge gust of chilled wind blasted straight to the face to bring the brunet out of his mind.

Dazed amber eyes look around; blinking a few times when he noticed it is well passed twilight. Time had slipped by without his consent. When he breathed out, a cloud formed in front of him and he shivered at the drop in temperature. Yet, the stillness of the forest had a different kind of shiver crawling up his spine that had nothing to do with the cold. The only sound to reach his ears was that of the babbling stream and the winds blowing agitatedly through the trees.

Something wasn’t right.

The Guardian couldn’t put his finger on it, but he had a feeling there was something wrong. Standing up, Jack turned in circles in an effort to spot anything amiss. He came up empty. There wasn’t anything blaringly out of place. Nothing to explain the uneasiness he felt, which only put him further one edge.

Manny could only give him so much light as a small crescent in the sky and his eyes couldn’t make out anything strange in the night. However, the darkness which clung to certain areas had a chill of fear seeping into his body. The memory of Pitch confining him in the tainted Dreamsand on Easter of 2012 jumped to the forefront of his mind. His grip on his staff tightening to a degree.

Taking a step back, the Guardian felt something twist around his ankle and yanked him down. He stumbled forward, shoving his staff in the ground to keep upright. Panic spiked when he realized whatever had wrapped around him was tugging him down. Something had him.

Eyes strained against the darkness and what he found proved the horror movie cliché of being alone in the forest after sunset was not good for anyone’s – mainly his – health. For there, clutching his ankle with sharp claw like fingers was a wraith like black hand had protruding out the ground.

Even as he watched, another hand came up through the same small hole its mate occupied and braced itself on the ground, pushing up. Jack feverishly tugged his foot in a feverish attempt to free himself but the wraith hand would not let up. His struggles increased when he saw the head and torso of the creature push its way out of the rabbit size hole that should have been impossible since the thing was twice as big as the ex-spirit.

“I thought I got rid of all of you,” Jack growled pulling his staff up and slashing at the Dream Pirate’s hand holding him in place. The wood connected and his ankle was free but the immortal teenager was sent tumbling backwards, landing on his bandaged shoulder, rendering him breathless. He didn’t have time to catch his breath, already rolling over and out of the way of sharp claws. The muddy ground made it difficult for Jack to get his feet under him, but he somehow managed and was running before the Dream Pirate could pulling himself out of the hole completely.

The Guardian worked to pull the sling off of his arm as he put some distance between him and the shadowy creature, knowing he would need both hands. Once free of the sling he traded hands with his staff, ignoring the twinge which accompanied the action, and used his free hand to dig in his leg pouch.

“Hell no!” Jack cursed when he came up emptied handed. He could have hit himself for forgotten he used up all of the folded sunshine during the Screaming Death incident and had to put off making more due to his injured state. “Just my luck; now what am I going to do?”

The choice was made for him when something tackled him down. Together, the Guardian and the Dream Pirate tumbled down a small hill and into a stream. Turning his fall into a controlled roll, Jack skidded to a stop and sprang to his feet, facing the creature. The ex-spirit didn’t let his eyes leave the Dream Pirate regardless of the water seeping through his boots and his water soaked cloak weighing him down, chilling him to the bone. In turn, the Dream Pirate’s glowing eyes didn’t stray either.

Although, now that he was no longer running from the creature, he was able to see the Dream Pirate hadn’t come out of their last encounter completely unscratched. The shadowy body was ragged with patches missing – allowing Jack to see straight through to the bank – and was hunched to one side, missing a part of its leg. However, what really grossed the immortal teen out was the black gunk dripping from the creature’s body and into the stream, tainting the water.

To Jack’s dismay, the Dream Pirate grabbed its side and drew a terrifying saber from a previous hidden sheath. Granted, when a creature was completely made up of darkness san glowing eyes, one could never tell what was clothing and what was part of their bodies. It almost made it difficult for him to tell if the creature had any more weapons on him, which was a hazard to the ex-spirit’s health. More weapons would be bad, very bad.

“Bring it,” the Guardian snarled, swapping hands with his staff yet again and launching himself at the creature. The Dream Pirate had enough time to bring up his saber to block the blow to the head from the staff, but it wasn’t expecting brunet’s kick to its side and was forced a couple of steps back.

The immortal teenager didn’t give it time to recover and used the crook of his staff to jab the creature in the stomach. He hadn’t accounted for the wraith to grab hold of said staff and yank him closer and within reach of the saber. Jack ducked down – feeling the blade skim over the back of his head and saw a few strands of brown hair drift to the ground – and put all his weight on the staff forcing the Dream Pirate to let go or lose its footing. It let go, not being able to afford the loss of its upper hand, causing Jack to fall face first into the stream.

Jack was already rolling out of the way of the downwards strike, the blade slashing through the water and embedding itself a quarter of an inch into the rocks below. A swipe to the Dream Pirate’s feet with his staff had the creature toppling over while the brunet scrabbling on to his feet in time to dodge yet another slashing blade. Looking back at the Dream Pirate getting up from the stream, Jack eyed the second creature in front of him.

“Now this, this is not a fair fight. Two against one and I’m injured at that,” the Guardian complained, jumping out of the way of a saber and ducking under another one. “I couldn’t beat one of them and now there are two. I need help here. Or light, light would be much better. I could beat them on my own with some light and wouldn’t have to rely on anyone else. I really need–

“ _Liget_ ,” the unfamiliar word passed through his lips and light seared out from the pouch at his leg. He was so shocked that he failed to notice the two Dream Pirates closing in on him from either direction as he gawked at the beams pouring out and without meaning to, he found himself reaching for it. The intensity of the light wasn’t much when looking straight on, but it was bright enough to illuminate the whole stream and to eat away at the Dream Pirates. Amber eyes looked up in time to see a saber a hairs breath away from his nose before the light dissolved the weapon and its owner.

“Wow,” Jack whisper before a wave of dizziness hit him and he fell back into the stream.

* * *

When Jack came to, he was laying at the edge of a pond, clearly not in the same place as he had been before he passed out. His clothes which had been filthy and drenched, was miraculously clean and warm despite the crisp fresh morning air that could chill even the burliest of Vikings on Berk. Taking in the rest of his surroundings, the brunet determined he had no clue where the heck he was and put his arm down to push himself up. He stopped halfway through to stare at his arm.

“We healed it for you,” a voice called out and Jack would not admit to the yelp which came from him as his head whipped towards the pond. Scanning the area with a critical eye, he saw nothing in the tree lines but movement in the water caught his attention. Creeping closer, amber eyes cautiously lean over and stare down at a distorted yet obviously face beneath the surface.

“Uh, thank you?”

Jack knew he was not remembering something which would put this whole surreal situation in to context. He knew it had to be from his mortal life – the first go around – since he only this way when it came to his repressed memories. Trying to force the memories only resulted in large headaches, something he had learned for experience and wasn’t going to repeat, but the immortal teenager could feel the memory was just out of reach. As it was, without the memory, the Jack was very confused.

“It is we who should be thanking you for getting rid of those foul creatures polluting our waters,” the image voiced. “Many of our siblings had been holding them in their grasps for years, becoming cold and solid to contain which could not be destroy and yet, you were able to rid them from our waters.”

It didn’t take Jack long to figured out the face was talking about the previously frozen _Nightmare Galleon_. “Doesn’t seem like I got all of them.”

“Not all, yes. Some still roam free but they are few and weak. We Vilia are now many and strong with our siblings no longer confined in their cold solid state. We can hold them off until you can come and dissipate them,” as the being spoke, the waters beside it showed images of the Villia’s first encounter with the Dream Pirates before changing to show the _Nightmare Galleon_ being frozen by countless of the same creatures as the one in front of him.

“You’re Vilia, spirits of brooks and streams,” the memory finally floated back into his head, his face lightening up at being faced with another Creature of Magic. His mom told him the Vilia were benevolent in nature and had healing abilities which were far superior to that of any sorcerer. “Wait, what do you mean by having _me_ get rid of them? I don’t even know how I did it the last two time! It was all just _luck_! Besides, I don’t have any real talent for magic.

“Magic has touched you, magic has chosen you, magic is not wrong; you are wrong, Child Not of this Time,” the Vilia stated as the wind picked up and started to blow around Jack, ruffling his hair and keeping him from falling into the pond when he leaned closer to see the watery face.

“How do you know that? How do you know I’m not of this time? Do you know how I can get home?” Jack shot off in quick succession, desperately hoping the Magical Creature of Water knew how to return him home.

“We know of you, Child Not of this Time. You were brought here for a reason,” the Vilia spoke as new voices joined in and new faces appeared in the water, all focusing on him.

“I already know that,” the teenager cried out in frustration. “But for what purpose? What do I need to do in order to get home?”

“You will find your home, Child Not of this Time,” the Vilia spoke as one. “Be prepared for what the future holds. We will aid you, if you so wish, we owe you a debt of for freeing our solid siblings from the cold and dispelling the Creatures Not of this World. Just call for us, and we will help.”

The faces started to become distorted in the water and dissolve back into the pond.

“Wait, I have more questions,” Jack yelled, but it was too late. The Vilia were already gone and he was left in sitting on his knees at the pond’s shoreline. Shaking his head, the ex-spirit stood up and looked around. There was a small opening in the treetops which allowed him to see sky and the sun halfway to its zenith. Up in the trees there were a few nests and he could hear the tiny chirps of the babies inside. All in all, Jack still didn’t have a clue of where he was.

“I would settle for how to get back to Berk at the moment,” the Guardian grumbled drily.

Examining the area one last time, Jack shrugged his shoulders in indifference, not at all bothered by being lost. He was actually not sure if he wanted to go back to Berk. In fact, he decided he was content at being lost. Jack had survived alone for three hundred years as a spirit. He could survive in a forest with no problems.

Pulling off the sling dangling uselessly from his neck, the ex-spirit untied the knot and sloppily folded the material before shoving it into his leg pouch. His hand froze in the pocket before rummaging around and pulling out everything from inside. Once everything was scattered about in front of him, amber eyes began looking for what might have caused the light earlier. The items he disregarded were placed back into the pouch and soon there was nothing left save for a small light brown leather bag tied closed with a stripe of white cloth.

Holding it up, Jack inspected it trying to remember where it had come from. Amber eyes widened as the memory of Finn thrusting the little leather bag into his hands before pushing him out the door to follow Gobber to Berk assaulted him. The hunter had told him it was all he had been able to salvage of the immortal teenager’s clothing as he placed the bag into smaller hands. Jack had only been able to tuck it into his pouch before running after the retreating blacksmith or risk being left behind and hadn’t thought about it since.

Now, though, as he held it in his hands once again, the Guardian could tell it wasn’t empty as he had originally thought. Untying the stripe of cloth, he held it up and felt his eyes become watery when he recognized it as being a part of the cuff of the shirt his sister had sewn for him years ago. The leather came from his pants judging by its worn state. Dumping the contents out into his palm, a small clear crystal the size of his little finger with wire wrapped around its length connected to a leather cord – not unlike those currently wrapped around his legs – landed in the center of his hand.

He had first assumed the contents were something Finn had left for him, but that was before he had seen the crystal. Jack gulped as he held it up to the light in between his fingers. The crystal was his – well, it was his mother’s really; she had given it to him for safekeeping – and a large part of his heritage. After all, it was taken from the Crystal Cave by Taliesin himself and passed down from one clan leader to the next until his grandfather had given the crystal to mother. Last he had seen of the crystal was the morning he tucked it under his shirt before taking his sister out ice skating.

Where and how Finn had found the crystal, Jack did not know but he would forever be grateful. It was one more piece of his heritage the Druid thought he would never have back. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he reached out and tied the cord around the base of his staff’s hook. This way the crystal was always in sight and he would never lose it again.

Smiling weakly, Jack looked up in to the sky at the beautiful day and knew today wasn’t a day to dwell on the past. “Might as well enjoy the day and have some fun.”

Rotating his now healed shoulder and eyeing the trees and rocks on the other side of the pond, a giant grin spread across his face. The wind blew gently, picking up leaves and twirling them around the clearing. His smile grew as he watched the leaves bopped and pirouette across the water’s surface. They were then caught up in a whirlwind and pulled up into the treetops to disappear into sky.

“You wanna race?” the ex-spirit asked the winds when they were finished with their show. The clearing was motionless for a moment after which the winds whipped around him, cuddling up to him before racing over the pond ruffling the tree leaves on the other side as if it was waiting for him. His cloak whipped in the breeze, pulling him towards the opposing side of the water. The Guardian of Fun laughed and flipped his staff up into the air.

He caught it near the newly attached crystal and held it parallel to the ground. Taking a few steps back, he ran at the water and jammed the end of the shaft into the water, vaulting over pond. For a moment, it didn’t look like he was going to make it to the other side. Yet a strong gale caught him and pushed him forward, his boots sinking into the mud. Nevertheless, he cleared the pond.

“Nice,” Jack grinned and then took off running after the winds staying just a step ahead of him. Even as he vaulted off rooks and swung through the trees, the winds kept their pace, leading him through trees and across rocking ravines. He zigged and zagged, not knowing where he was going and not caring. It was like he was back in the future, allowing the winds to lead him on a never ending adventure.

Suddenly the winds rounded about and blew back on him, forcing him to break his stride as skidding out of the foliage and into the open. The hook of his staff caught a branch and jerked him to a halt, his foot dangling over the edge as the crystal jingled against the wood.

“Whoa,” the brunet exhaled, looking straight down below at the giant waves crashing against jagged rocks down below. Pushing his stomach back down to calm his racing heart, Jack pulled himself back so he wasn’t practically falling off the cliff edge. A glace to the side had him spotted a familiar landmark across the ways. “Hey, I know where we are!”

A soft breeze ruffled his clothes and swirled around him curiously. Understanding the noiseless inquiry, the brunet pointed towards the cape opposite to them.

“See that overhang there, that’s where I went to fish after meeting Hiccup and Toothless for the first time,” which meant he was a long way away from the village. How the Vilia had transported him all the way out here, he couldn’t fathom yet it didn’t concern him in the least. It was nice up here and Jack found himself sitting down on the ledge and looking out at sea. He thought about fishing, just for something to do, but he knew he was too high up and the violet waves below would yield nothing. Instead, he sat there with the winds dancing and playing before him.

Jack didn’t know how long he sat there. It could have been hours or minutes and he wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. As an immortal, time held little meaning for him and with him zipping across the world with only help from the winds, day and night had little meaning to him. Having become human again had helped reestablish some awareness of time but sometimes the concept eluded him. He only jerked out of absentminded state when a cry from below had him looking down. A blaze of flames weaved dangerously close to the rock face and water’s surface before skyrocketed straight up: right at him.

He didn’t have time to move before the large ball of flames blasted passes him, close enough for the intense heat to irate his face. The flames came to an abrupt halt as giant wings expanded and flapped repeatedly to keep in place. The ex-spirit had to bring up his arm to shield his eyes from the dry gust of heat lapping at his face.

“Hookfang!” a shout of terror mixed with anger and a hint of relief echoed off the rocks causing Jack to lower his arm. To his relief, the heat died down and the gust became bearable if a little on the warm side. He was glad to see the dying blaze of fire was indeed the recovered Monstrous Nightmare flying in front of him with Snotlout secured on his back.

“Hookfang?!” the Viking screeched again, pulling on the dragon’s horns in an attempt to turn around. Hookfang would have none of that and buckled up, making the Dragon Rider flatten himself on the dragon’s long neck or risk being thrown. “What is wrong with you? You need to take it easy! And that last stunt almost had us losing Fawn!”

“I’m sure she could have taken care of herself, what with wings and all,” Jack commented, eyeing the ball of light buzzing over Snotlout’s head.

“What? Hn? Gah,” Snotlout instantly sat up straight, one hand pulling the little ball of light into the folds of his bearskin cloak to hide Fawn while his other hand pulled a bludgeon from behind his back. A smile spread across the Guardian’s face at the Viking’s reaction, glad he hadn’t misplaced his trust in the burly brunet by entrusting him with the Wyldfae’s safety. “Who said that? Who’s there?”

“Relax Snotlout, it’s just me,” Jack stood up and stretching out, feeling his limbs popping from sitting for a prolonged period of time.

“Jackson? What are you doing all the way out here?” the Viking’s voice hitched as he lowered the bludgeon and allowed Fawn to dart out from the safety of his cloak. The little Dewdrop Faerie let out a thrill as she zipped over to Jack and settled on the top of his staff, happily chiming away.

“Nothing much,” the immortal teenager shrugged his shoulders, glancing at Fawn who had gone silent and was peering down at the crystal hanging below her, entranced by the magical crystal. Shaking his head, Jack moved to the side and Hookfang took the silent invitation, landing in the now free space hardly big enough for the Monstrous Nightmare yet he somehow managed it. “I see Hookfang is back to normal.”

The dragon let loose an earsplitting roar, flames erupting from his mouth and up in the air in a magnificent display. He then lowered his head and nudged the Guardian. However, since he was use to pushing a much heavier Viking around, the small prod sent Jack stumbling back and almost off the edge for the second time that day. Thankfully, the winds were there to push him forward and away from the ledge.

Fawn jumped into action and zoomed around the dragon, barraging him with reprimanding chimes and high pitch tolls.

“Hey, hey; that’s enough, he didn’t mean anything by it,” the teenager attempted to sooth both dragon and fae alike. Hookfang had the decency to lower his head in shame and gave a small whimper for good measure which had Jack reaching out, patting the dragon’s giant maw. The winds were also appeased by the Monstrous Nightmare’s apology because it died down as well. Shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all, amber eyes looked skywards before he turned his attention to the dismounting Dragon Rider. “So, I take it last night’s quest went well?”

“Oh yeah, if by well you mean almost getting eaten by the Fireworm Queen,” Snotlout snorted and the ex-spirit was surprised to hear no arrogance in his voice. “It’s only thanks to Hookfang and this little warrior that we managed to survive.”

“This I got to hear,” the edges of Jack’s lips twitched upwards as the Viking shifted from foot to foot looking anywhere but at him. “Oh come on, it can’t be that bad.”

“You really want to hear it?” the Monstrous Nightmare rider finally looked at him and amber eyes couldn’t miss the insecurity located in dark blue eyes.

The Guardian in him wondered just how many people actually paid attention to Snotlout. He was the son of the chief’s right hand man, but his own father only seemed to have enough time to berate the boy and push him to be the best from what the immortal teen could tell. If anything, Jack understand why the Viking was standoffish but had to be the center of attention. With an absentee father at best and a mother and sister who had died at a young age, Snotlout mustn’t have wanted to be alone.

Yet the Viking was afraid to get close to anyone in case he would lose them too. The other Dragon Riders didn’t help by discounting him at the best of times and ignoring him at the worse. Jack was going to help in the best way he knew how. As Mr. Vadderung had done for him when he had felt alone in the world and just needed someone to be there for him, he would listen.

“Only as long as I can tell it to the children later, they would love to hear such a story,” the taller brunet nodded, the corner of his lip upturned.

“Well take a seat and I’ll tell you!” Snotlout’s boastfulness was back in his voice, but the Guardian didn’t care. He could now see it for what it really was, a shield to protect himself.

Looking around for a place to sit on the overcrowded edge, Jack settled on a low hanging branch. It didn’t take much effort to swing up and straddle the limp, the tips of his boots scrapping across the ground. When he turned back around, he saw Snotlout had made himself comfortable on a toppled tree and was rummaging through the saddlebag he had taken off of Hookfang.   Said dragon was lying down between them chomping down on what looked like chicken with Fawn sitting on his horn delicately eating a decent size berry.

“Here,” was all the warning Jack got as something was flung in his direction. The ex-spirit was glad he was holding his staff in the opposite hand or else he wouldn’t have been able to grab the charred fish by the tail in time. He was actual quite impress with the Viking’s aim. The fish would have hit him in his face if he hadn’t of caught it and that took some real skill to throw a fish with such accuracy.

His stomach growled when he looked at the fish in his hand and Jack had the decency to blush; he had forgotten to eat, again. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Snotlout shrugged, teeth tearing into his own blackened cod.

Jack looked down at his food before hooking his staff on his leg to keep it from falling and pulled a dagger out of his boot with his now free hand. The charred scales were easily enough to work off with the blade, exposing the meat underneath which he sunk his teeth into. Amber eyes widened as flavor filled his mouth.

The immortal teenager had gotten used to the tough and tasteless meals the Vikings made and Gobber forced him to eat.   However, that wasn’t to say he enjoyed the fish. He couldn’t even say the food was good since the main, overwhelming flavor he tasted was due to the fish being burnt and nothing else. Despite all of this Jack could say the food tasted better than anything he’d been served in the Great Hall.

“So, tell me how things went after I left,” the ex-spirit looked down at Snotlout after taking another bite of his fish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so, Hookfang is better and Snotlout and Jack are becoming friends since Hiccup pushed him away to keep him safe. To bad for Hiccup, Jack found trouble because he was pushed away. Damn those Dream Pirates. Thankfully, the Guardian can take care of himself.


	21. Fright in the Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy readers like the build up and character development, it was a little difficult since I wasn't sure if I wanted Jack and Snotlout to be at each others' throat or friends. I decided to do a little of both, have them dislike each other at the beginning and then become friends.

Hiccup had been utterly and completely exhausted for days. With Gothi predicting Aurvandil's Fire arriving within the week on the eve of restoring Hookfang’s blaze, he hadn’t gotten time to rest. For when the florescent colored lights of Aurvandil’s Fire would appear, the Flightmare – one of the few dragons no Viking on Berk had every managed to kill – was soon to follow.

Many of Vikings had taken on the dragon; all had failed. Some lost their dignity while others lost their lives. The last Viking to go against the Flightmare had been Fearless Finn Hofferson. After the encounter – because it couldn’t be called a fight – his nickname had quickly changed to Frozen Finn Hofferson.

With nothing able to stand up against the Flightmare, the chief and his council declared the village to be on lockdown whenever Aurvandil’s Fire burned across the sky. This time was no different and Stoick had responded to Gothi’s prediction by prepping the village for the worst. The Great Hall was being reinforcing, supplies were stockpile, and huts fortified.

Hiccup had been put him in charge of fortifying the Haddocks’ hut; since as the chief, his father didn’t have the time. He barely had the time himself with Spitelout sending the Dragon Riders into the forest to retrieve trees for additional lumber. Not to mention, Gobber had him forging much needed nails whenever he had a lick of time. To top it off, he was working with Fishlegs to track the very dragon that was causing all the chaos while keeping Astrid from killing anyone.

The Head of the Dragon Academy had thanked Thor, the twins were actually helping – or at the very least, staying out of trouble – since no one came to him complaining about their particular brand of behavior in the last few days. Hiccup didn’t think he could deal with it if some had. On the opposite side, he did have to deal with Toothless being irate with him. All because he had been neglecting their evening flights.

Hiccup did have to admit, even when mad at him, Toothless was loyal as ever. The dragon had stayed near him – not too close, but close enough – and assisted the auburn haired teenager whenever he needed aid. The Night Fury had even kept his rider from toppling over the night before when Hiccup was stumbling home after having spent hours at the forge. Toothless had ended up carried him the rest of the way.

Thankfully, when he had woken up this morning, the Night Fury was waiting for him for the first time in days. Hiccup took this to mean the dragon wasn’t holding a grudge any longer. Regardless, he felt horrible for neglecting Toothless and to make it up to him, the auburn hair teenager pulled on his flight harness. The sight alone had the dragon bouncing around ecstatically, creating a large ruckus which had Hiccup hurrying to mount the Night Fury’s back, clipping the harness to the saddle, and taking off before he could wake Stoick.

The flight wasn’t nearly as long as Toothless would have liked, but the Viking had more than made up for it with the numerous different stunts he was only willing to pull when no one else was around. The dragon loved every minute of it. Heck, Hiccup loved every minute of it. Flying with Toothless allowed him to get away from all the stress and the obligations he had been under. The limitlessness of the sky and the wind whipping in his hair washed away all of the weight that had been building up.

In the sky, it was just him and Toothless. Nothing else to worry about. That left the Dragon Rider feeling lightered the longer they stayed up there. Sadly, the lightness he was feeling disappeared rather abruptly when they landed. Fishlegs was waiting there for him.

Fretfully, the heavyset Viking yanked him to the Academy arena with Toothless following. When they arrived, Hiccup could see what had the Gronckle rider so worked up. The place was trashed, weapons sewn across the ground and jutting out of the stone walls. Wooden boxes – where the Academy stored their supplies – were upturned and their contents thrown everywhere or missing all together while the training barrel used for target practice were either filled to the brim with weapons protruding out or bits of wood and metal rings scatter across the ground.

Any other time, Hiccup would have attributed the chaos to the twins and would have already been on his way to get an explanation out of them or the very least have them clean it up, yet it clearly wasn’t them. Not when Astrid was standing in the middle of the arena, battle-axe in hand as she tore through another training barrel. She chopped the barrel in half and yanking the axe back out before pivoting on her feet to attack another one behind her. All the while, yelling at nothing with such vigor it had Fishlegs’s legs trembling and the Head of the Dragon Academy had to admit, he was – a tiny bit – in fear for his life.

“You want some of this?! That's right! Who's next?!” the rampaging shieldmaiden shouted when the barrel she had been hacking away at gave up the ghost under the anger of her last swing.

“I-I'm pretty sure that. Yep, I think you got them. All of them.” Hiccup spoke up, hoping to save some of their training gear if there was anything left. In spite of the fact he was the chief’s son, the Academy didn’t have unlimited funds and a lot of the stuff they had, came from Hiccup’s own pocket. Not that the other Academy members knew and he wanted to keep it that way. However, if Astrid succeeded in destroying all their equipment, there wouldn’t be a way to replace them for some time.

“Astrid's been killing inanimate objects all morning,” the heavyset Viking whispered quietly, trying to hide _The Book of Dragons_ behind him in case the blonde decided it would make a good target.

“She's really wound up about the Flightmare,” Hiccup remarked low enough that Astrid – who had gone back to pulverizing their equipment – wouldn’t hear. He really needn’t bother, anyone with eyes and a brain knew of Astrid’s hated for the Flightmare which disgraced her family’s name. She hated the dragon for shaming her uncle so badly that he was driven out of Berk.

“Too bad she's wasting her time,” Snotlout scoffed leaning against the wall at the entrance of the Academy with his arms folded. “When the Flightmare comes, the Hoffersons freeze. Right, Astrid? I mean, you are a-”

He was halfway through his sentence when the axe Astrid had been using embedded itself into the stone wall just inches from the Jorgenson’s face. Natural reactions had the brunet reeled back at the attack and instinctively bringing up his arms to defend himself. Yet the action was too little too late.

“-Hofferson,” Snotlout finished his voice going up an octave.

Blue eyes went from startled surprise to hardened sapphires in a matter of seconds. The broad-shouldered Viking reached out, pulling the axe from the wall with a single hand. The look on his face had the Head of the Academy jumping into action. He needed to defuse the rapidly escalating situation and fast.

“Okay, okay, let's take a deep breath,” Hiccup stepping between the fuming teenage girl and the equally enraged Viking, knowing neither one would attack the chief’s son. However, if the Astrid attacked Snotlout, there would be problems. Big problems because as much as he didn’t like to admit it, Snotlout was his cousin and if the shieldmaiden attempted to murder the chief’s nephew, her life would be forfeited. “Just because Aurvandil's Fire is coming, doesn't mean the Flightmare is, too.”

“Sure, it does,” Fishlegs contradicted him, pulling _The Book of Dragons_ out from behind his back and flipping through the pages. The Night Fury rider really wished he was the one holding the axe right about now, maybe then the heavyset Viking would have shut up. As it was, he wasn’t holding a weapon and Fishlegs continued to rant on excitedly. “Every ten years the sky lights up with Aurvandil's Fire, and when it does the Flightmare appears. Its spectral glow and banshee-like scream are unmistakable.”

Astrid gave him the evil eye and waved towards the Gronckle rider currently engrossed in the book he must have read a thousand times. “You were saying?”

“Thank you, Fishlegs. Your extensive knowledge of the Flightmare is timely, if nothing else,” Hiccup deadpanned keeping an eye on his cousin who had – thankfully – put the weapon down. That was some progress at least, since the situation was now detreating in a whole different direction.

Fishlegs glanced up from the book with a look befitting of Snotlout, full of pride and arrogance. “I do fancy myself to be Berk's leading authority on the subject. Here's a few more fun facts. Legend has it that the Flightmare is so terrifying, it actually freezes its prey in their tracks.”

“Yeah. Just ask Frozen Finn Hofferson,” Snotlout snorted. However, there was something different in his voice. Even though he was leaning against the wall with his arms folded as he had been before, his posture was not the same. The brunet Viking whole frame was ridged and coiled while blue eyes were fixed on the blonde teenager, observing her every moment. Moreover his remark was nowhere near his usual mocking comment meant to get on their nerves but one which was meant to hurt. “Right, Astrid?”

Hiccup didn’t have time to react. The shieldmaiden lost what little remaining control she had left due to Snotlout’s thinly veiled reference and attacked. She ducked out of the auburn haired teenager’s effort to grab hold of her and latched on to the black bearskin cloak the brunet Viking wore around his shoulders. He had expected Astrid to throw Snotlout to the ground and to threaten him with either her fist or her axe.

The Head of the Academy was not expecting his cousin’s counterattack.

Snotlout had been prepared and sprang into a flurry of movements. He brought up his arm and used his elbow to dislodge her grip on him. Without missing a beat, the Viking then grabbed ahold of Astrid’s wrist and exploited her height by ducking under her arm. Snotlout pulled the appendage back behind her with the movement and slammed the girl face first into the wall.

The counterattack was one Hiccup had seen before. A move which was reminiscent to the one Jackson had used on Snotlout during their first meeting. Although a slight bastardization – what with not using a staff and all – the move was just as effective, if not executed without the grace the Druid possessed.

“You think it's funny Snotlout?! You think it’s a joke that my family name was ruined by that _dragon_?” Astrid growled out furiously as she tried to shove back only to find herself trapped by other Viking’s mass.

“Actually Astrid, I don’t,” the broad-shouldered Viking’s voice had a hard edge. “I don’t give a shit about you or your disgrace of an uncle. He didn’t have to leave the village and live Odin knows where. He chose to because he couldn’t handle the _gossips_. He could have stayed and done something about it, but he didn’t have the balls to.

“Let’s get this straight Astrid, if you ever attack me like that again. I won’t hold back. Not anymore. Now if you excuse me, I have more important things to do than stay here and listen to you throw a tantrum because your uncle didn’t stand up for himself like a Viking of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe should.”

Shoving the stunned shieldmaiden further against the wall, Snotlout released his hold and walked out passing the twins as they head in.

“Have you guys heard? The Flightmare's coming,” Tuffnut called out as the twins walked through the entrance completely missing the charged atmosphere which hung over the other Dragon Riders. Part of the problem came from the wheelbarrow full of what looked to be apples obstructed his view, the other part of the problem was they were dealing with the Thorston twins who thrived on chaos and saw nothing wrong with the current mood.

“Guys, we're really trying not to talk about that,” Hiccup found himself saying despite his mind currently being occupied elsewhere.

Green eyes darting from the fuming Astrid brushing off her clothing to the retreating form of Snotlout. He had no idea what had just happened and he was worried. The brunet Viking’s current volatility mood was not acceptable. Neither was Astrid’s outburst and there was nothing he could do about it. If he said something to Snotlout, he would have to say something to the shieldmaiden and this whole day was not looking too good for him.

“Hate to break it to you, but that's the only thing anyone's talking about,” Ruffnut rolled of her eyes, not even bothering to keep her voice down. The blonde Viking was too busy trying to keep the tower of cod she was holding from falling and didn’t even noticed the glowering look being sent her way by Astrid.

“Well, that and Astrid's Uncle,” Tuffnut set down the wheelbarrow and walked around to inspect the ground for any loss apples. This time, Astrid’s anger did connect with her intended target. She stalked right up to the Viking with dreadlocks and plowed her fist right into his jaw. Tuffnut didn’t even know what was going on, one second he was looking over his apples, the next he was sprawled out on his ass with Astrid strolling on by and out of the Academy. “Uh, what just happened? I mean, I could have deserved that but I don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve that. Have I done anything?”

Ruffnut turned her attention away from the Deadly Nadder flying off to who knows where and back to her brother. “Not that I know of. I haven’t impersonated you and stole Astrid’s underwear in months.”

“Huh, I thought not,” the blond Viking rubbed his face feeling for any lingering pain. A frown marred his lips when he found none and Tuffnut had to cover his disappointment by ducking his head as he got up off the ground. Collecting the wheelbarrow, he started to push in to Barf and Belch’s pen. “If you don't need us anymore, we gotta go get ready for the end of the world. See ya!”

“Uh, Hiccup, did that seem a little strange to you?” Fishlegs asked when the twins were out of earshot.

“The twins, no. But if you mean Snotlout, yeah, it was strange,” the Head of the Academy rubbed his arm as exhaustion creeped back up on him. Hiccup knew he needed to deal with his cousin before things became too out of hand. However, with Aurvandil's Fire almost upon them, that took precedent over disgruntled Academy members. “We have more important things to worry about than Snotlout. Have you found anything more about the Flightmare?”

“Every ten years the sky lights up with Aurvandil's Fire-” Fishlegs started reciting, tucking the book under one arm and holding the other up as he waved his hands in unknown gestures which only he knew the meaning of.

“I meant anything else,” Hiccup sighed, his day looking even longer than it had before. Toothless, sensing his distraught, nuzzled his head against the Dragon Rider’s side and the auburn haired teenager returned the affection with a pat to the head.

“Not yet, but I still have a few more sources that I need to look through,” the heavyset Viking pouted a little at being denied regaling his knowledge on dragons once more.

“Okay then, why don’t you do that and we’ll meet up later? Dad wants me to get a few more trees from the forest and I better get on that,” the Night Fury rider ordered more than suggested. Not giving Fishlegs enough time to argue, Hiccup mounted Toothless and was heading out of the Academy before he had even secured his harness to the saddle. “See you later.”

Toothless waited long enough for the Gronckle rider to say his goodbyes before pushing off the ground and careering towards the exit. At the last second possible, the Night Fury drew his wings back to clear the narrow opening with only a foot to spare. Once high up in the air, Toothless gleefully did a few barrel rolls before leveling out. His ear-plates flattened at the lack of shoots and screams of enthusiasm and joy coming from his rider during their more adventurous aerial stunts.

Instead, Hiccup listlessly leaning to the right, directing Toothless towards an area of the forest he had seen a few fallen trees the last time they were out. The flight was short and mechanical as they picked up a fallen tree of decent size and flew back to Berk where he had Toothless drop it off next to the Great Hall. Three more trips just like it were made before Mulch signaled him away, saying that they had more than enough lumber to finish.

Yet before he could get away, Silent Sven had waved him over and made gestures indicating the need for more boulders to fortify his corral. Not being able to say no, they spent the morning getting boulders from the cove for the Viking and then he was roped into helping round up escaped sheep which took up the afternoon. Following that, he had to help several people carry provisions up to the Great Hall while Toothless took the time take a nap next to the hearth. Hiccup had been envious, but he knew the Night Fury needed it after flying and heavy lifting all morning and afternoon.

Finally, when he was able to get away from everyone and their demanding tasks, it was dusk. He had been able to get away with stealing a chicken leg for lunch, but there hadn’t been any time to eat anything since and he only had less than a half an hour to fill his empty stomach before heading over to check on Fishlegs’s progress. He wasn’t successful. Instead, he stumbled over Astrid packing Stormfly’s saddlebags with provisions and he just knew she was going after the Flightmare.

As soon as she turned around – her face slacked before becoming hard again – Hiccup knew she had seen him.

“I don't want to hear it, Hiccup. I've waited my entire life for a chance to clear my family's name, and you're not going to stop me,” Astrid spoke as she turned her back on him and Toothless, tightening the Deadly Nadder’s saddle. A quick double-checked to make sure everything was fastened down nice and tight and it appeared the shieldmaiden was ready to go.

With a heavy sigh, something he found himself doing a lot lately, Hiccup glanced helplessly at Toothless for assistance he knew he wasn’t going to get. The dragon just looked at him and tilted his head to the side before sitting down next to his rider as if he was waiting for the auburn haired teenager. Sometimes, Hiccup just knew there was more going on in the Night Fury’s head than the dragon portrayed, and then there were times like this that the Viking felt like there was nothing going on in Toothless’s mind at all.

Vivid green eyes ended up returning to Astrid, more precisely her back. The chief’s son struggled to think of a simple way to resolve one of the many current situations he had on his plate without resorting to drastic measures. He came up empty and did what he did best, he improvised.

“Who said anything about stopping you?” he asked nonchalantly, which in hindsight was the worst thing he could say. The blonde teenager only had to look over her should with a hard look, one that said she knew he was planning on stopping her before walking away. Stormfly dolefully following her and Hiccup had to hobble after them, his metal leg acting up due to his exhaustion. “Okay, Astrid, I have to stop you. Look, nobody loves a new and terrifying dragon more than I do, but I need you guys here to protect Berk. If that things does show up, it's going to take all of us fight it off.”

Toothless had thankfully took pity due to his hobbled state and had come up behind him; using his head to toss the teenager up in to his saddle before galloping in front of Astrid and Stormfly, cutting off their path. The shieldmaiden was forced to stop and look up at Hiccup, but her expression didn’t change. In fact her scowl deepened and her eyes narrowed to mere slights.

“Not if it never gets here,” the words were spat out with such venom that it had the Head of the Dragon Academy’s worry for her wellbeing increased exponentially. Astrid was going down a very dangerous path. Her focus on revenge could very well get her killed. Something he could not deal with, not only would he lose her, but that would just be another thing to pile on to his already overflowing plate of duties. “Come on, Hiccup. Don't tell me you haven't been dreaming about the Flightmare, going after it, learning about it, training it?”

This time, it was Hiccup who narrowed his eyes at the cynical quips. He could feel Toothless under him tense at the shieldmaiden’s tone, the muscles beneath him tensing and he was certain the Night Fury’s teeth had emerged from his gums. The dragon was preparing to defend Hiccup if needed be.

“Well, you know, Astrid, training dragons isn't the only thing I think about,” the chief’s son reined in his own fury and fought to speak calmly for Toothless’s sake more than hers. He didn’t want the Night Fury worked up any more than he already was or else Toothless might just attack.

Hiccup also resented the fact she would think such a thing about him. He was Stoick the Vast’s son and yes, the Dragon Training Academy was his top priority, but the fact of the matter was his father hadn’t given him the Academy just because he had managed to train a Night Fury. The chief had given him the Academy to prepare him for responsibility which awaited him; it was the next stage in his training to become the chief. The Academy gave him the opportunity to learn how to be a leader, on how to manage funds and supplies, to listen to those he leads, and above all to make the important decisions when the time come.

This was one of those times. He was attempting to save Berk without the need to spill blood and Astrid wanted to rush into battle like a berserker. She either was not aware of the consequences Berk would have to face at her actions or did not care. All Astrid was thinking about was herself.

“Are you actually saying that to me with a straight face?” the shieldmaiden hissed and Hiccup could have answered her question honestly with a ‘yes’. It just so happened, he didn’t get the chance as Fishlegs came running up to them waving a scroll of paper around frantically.

“There you are, Hiccup. I did the research you asked for,” the heavyset Viking huffed, stopping a little ways between the two other Dragon Riders. He had to hold up his finger, gesturing for them to give him a minute as he leaned over, bracing his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“Not now, Fishlegs,” the Head of the Academy quietly ordered, eyes never leaving Astrid’s narrowed blue ones. If her scowl became any deeper, Hiccup had the brief amusing speculated that if it was closer to winter Jokul Frosti just might have frozen her face that way as a prank. It sure would scare a lot of people if he did.

“But I have the path of the Flightmare right on this map. For generations, it's gone through the Northern Swamp on the way to the village. Same route every time. If I could only figure out why, we might be able to stop it,” Fishlegs blurted out without heading the gentle warning.

Hiccup turned his head and looked at the other Viking, speaking very deliberately. “Fishlegs, Astrid doesn't want to talk about the Flightmare.”

“Of course she does,” the dragon enthusiast completely missed the hint.

Astrid didn’t miss the opportunity though and jumped right in. “Sure, I do.”

“See?” the Gronckle Dragon rider pointed out, as if it was Hiccup that was thickheaded one. “So, as I was saying, if you want to get close to it, you're going to have to be stealthy, virtually invisible in the dark.”

“Kind of like a Night Fury?” the shieldmaiden asked and the chief’s son definitely did not like where this was going. Neither did Toothless, judging by the way he shook his head. Hiccup was just thankful the dragon was no longer tense and ready to attack. That did not mean the Night Fury wasn’t still worked up though, his rider could feel it in the way he was shifting that Toothless had a lot of pent up energy.

Fishlegs nodded his head sage like. “Exactly like a Night Fury.”

Astrid looked at Toothless with a gleam in her eyes. However, when she stalked closer, the Night Fury took a step back. The minute his pupils become slits, Stormfly grabbed on to the back of her rider’s shirt and pulling the girl back. Toothless bared his teeth at Astrid, but gave the Deadly Nadder a curt nod who wisely kept Astrid away from the Night Fury. At least one of them had some sense, Hiccup thought.

“So, when do we leave?” the shieldmaiden would not relent and struggled to free herself from Stormfly. Her blue eyes never leaving Toothless. Although, once she and slipped out of the Deadly Nadder’s grasp, she did not move towards the annoyed dragon.

Yet again Hiccup was kept from answering. This time it was his mentor calling his name as he hobbled over, waving his hook in the air to get their attention. Behind him trailed Grump who appeared to be even slower than usual but was keeping up with the blacksmith. The Boulder-class dragon was also keeping the man from falling over in his exhausted state, the bags behind his eyes looking the worse Hiccup had ever seen.

“Ah, Hiccup there you are. I’m glad I was able catch you,” Gobber huffed as he reached the small group, slightly leaning up against Grump to take his weight off of his peg leg. “I was just wondering how Jackson was doing? What with all the perpetrations for Aurvandil's Fire going on, I’ve been sleeping at the forge and I wanted to be sure he’s been okay on his own.”

“Uh, Gobber, I haven’t seen Jackson recently,” the auburn haired teenager informed his mentor, trying to remember the last time he had seen the boy. There was the dinner with his father and then Jackson had gotten that little Wyldfae’s help to located Fireworm Island. The last time he had seen him…

Hiccup let out a groan. He knew he had forgotten something. The last time he had seen Jackson was when the Druid had stormed away. Just after the Head of the Academy informed him he couldn’t go with the Dragon Riders to Fireworm Island. He had meant to talk with the brunet after they had found the cure for Hookfang, but then this whole thing with Aurvandil's Fire had cropped up and he had pushed the Druid to the back of his mind.

“When was the last time you saw him?” Hiccup asked, praying to anyone listening that it had been some time in the interim.

Gobber stopped and thought, running his hook through his mustache. “Well, I last remember sending him down to fetch you from the Academy. Of course you were busy with helping reignite Hookfang’s flame; can’t say I’ve seen him since then.”

“Gobber that was a week ago!” Hiccup gasped as a heavy feeling settled in his stomach. Turning his attention to the other two Dragon Riders – one of which who mouth had fallen open at the revelation – the weight in his stomach grew. “Have any of you seen Jackson recently?”

“No,” Astrid tapped her foot against the ground repeatedly while gazing towards the quickly darkening sky for any sign of Aurvandil's Fire.

Fishlegs took longer to answer, biting his lips as he starched his chin. “Not since before we went to Fireworm Island. I wanted to ask him about the Wyldfae he summoned but I couldn’t find him. Then the chief asked us to go get more lumber and you asked me to research the Flightmare and with everything going on, there was no time to go looking for him to asked and…. I… I forgot.”

If he wasn’t already resting on Toothless’s back, the Dragon Rider would have staggered, because he too had forgotten about Jackson. Disregarded the Druid because Hiccup hadn’t had the time or desire to deal with the angered foreigner. However, Jackson was a person. Not one of his inventions to be tinkered with when he had the time and put to the side when he didn’t. He was responsible for anything that had happened to the brunet because he had neglected Jackson. There was no other way about it; Hiccup had neglected the burnet because he hadn’t wanted to deal with the teenager’s anger.

“Okay, we just need to find him. He has to be somewhere in the village,” Hiccup said hopefully, green eyes sweeping the area around them. He tried to think of where Jackson would be if he wasn’t at the forge but he realized he had no idea where the Druid liked to go in his spare time.

“He’s not,” Gobber shook his head, scratching Grump behind the dragon’s ear-wing with his hook in an attempt to calm down. A few scales fell to the ground at the rough petting, but the dragon didn’t seem to notice. “We’ve looked everywhere and I just figured he was with you guys, helping prepare for the Flightmare.”

Hiccup felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head.

Toothless let out a concerned croon and looked around as if Jackson would magically appear. “It’s okay Bud, we’ll find him.”

“But what about the Flightmare?” Fishlegs whined pointing in the general direction of the Northern Swap. “It’ll be coming soon.”

“Yeah, we have to go after the Flightmare now. It’s our only chance to spot it before it gets to Berk,” Astrid snapped as she mounted Stormfly and directed the dragon towards the Northern Swap.

“She’s right,” the heavyset Viking nodded briskly, mounting his own dragon. “If we don’t leave to stop the Flightmare now, it will reach Berk.”

This was one of those situations his father was trying to prepare him for, making the hard decision when the time comes. Hiccup knew the correct course of action was to go after the Flightmare. The village’s protection as a whole should come first and one person wasn’t worth risking the life of the entire village. Jackson could wait. Hopefully.

However if anything did happen to the Druid, Hiccup would fully take the blame. It was his fault for not checking up on Jackson at any point during the week. He would take responsibility for his actions; or in this case his inactions.

“We’ll search for him when we get back, Gobber,” the Dragon Rider ignored the warbling coming from the dragon below him. The Night Fury wasn’t happy with the decision and he wasn’t happy with his own decision either. Yet, it was a decision Hiccup was going to have to suffer the consequences of, even if that included Toothless being mad at him for a second time. “Come on Bud, the sooner we deal with the Flightmare, the sooner we can go search for Jackson.”

Toothless conceded the point and settled down, allowing Hiccup to give Gobber a strained smile. “Gobber please keep an eye out for him; he might still be in the village somewhere.”

“Will do,” Gobber nodded once, yet his voice was low and laden with emotions. He too was worried about the missing Druid.

The Dragon Rider had no time to console his mentor as Astrid had already taken off with Stormfly and Meatlug trying to follow behind, yet the Gronckle was having trouble keeping up with the fast pace the shieldmaiden was setting. Nudging Toothless towards the Northern Swap, Hiccup clipped his harness to Toothless’s saddle and took off after the other dragons. The Night Fury effortlessly passed Meatlug and caught up with the Deadly Nadder before taking the lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, no Jack in this chapter.


	22. A Druid’s Passage

“Okay, we are going to observe the Flightmare, Astrid. We are going to see what we can learn about it, try to redirect it. If we can't, we are falling back to town. Understand?” Hiccup stressed the situation, looking back to give Astrid a pointed stare. The shieldmaiden sitting behind him didn’t even give him the courtesy of looking at him, her attention was focused on Aurvandil's Fire and searching for the Flightmare.

“Sure,” Astrid replied, yet her voice was lacking in sincerity.

Hiccup really wished he had left her behind with the others to face the Flightmare alone. However, if he’d done that, he couldn’t be sure the shieldmaiden wouldn’t have gotten on Stormfly and chase down the Flightmare on her own, defeating the reason they had split up in the first place. He and Fishlegs believed it best that one of them approached the Flightmare to keep the threat of a perceived attack at bay. At least the Head of the Academy knew the heavyset Viking wouldn’t be interfering. He was content staying behind and reading the scrolls he brought along by the light of a campfire with the dragons for protection.

On the other hand, Hiccup was stuck with Astrid and her axe.

“Say the words ‘I understand, Hiccup,’” the auburn haired Dragon Rider prompt the shieldmaiden, _accidently_ elbowing her in the side to obtain Astrid’s full attention.

“Fine,” the blonde teenager drew out and Hiccup didn’t have to see her to know she was rolling her eyes. “ _I understand, Hiccup_.”

The Night Fury rider just rolled his eyes skywards but couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice. “Well, that just instills me with confidence. “

After that failed exchange they flew in silence, Toothless’s ear-plates twitching ever now and again as they crossed over valleys and rock formations covered in fresh green foliage. Hiccup could barely see the ground, yet if it was any other night he wouldn’t have been able to see anything at all. It was only because of the blue-green glow coming from Aurvandil's Fire waving across the night’s sky which gave him a hint of visibility in the night.

“There's the Northern Swamp,” the Night Fury rider spoke up when he could faintly make out the weirdly shape tree which marked the boundaries of the swap. The resonating roar which penetrated the howling winds and the flapping of Toothless’s wings was all they needed to know Fishlegs had been right about his speculation on the Flightmare’s location. “Uh…sounds like we’re getting close.”

“Good. I can't wait to see this thing,” and Hiccup supposed that was the first thing she said to him this evening that wasn’t in anger or sarcasm. Still, he had a feeling she had an ulterior motive.

“Uh… you won't have to wait long. Remember, observe only!” the auburn haired Viking shouted when something detach itself from the blue-green lights of Aurvandil's Fire.

The glowing blue object let out a roar and the vague dragon like shape emitted a burst of intense light. Toothless reared back at the sheer intensity and dove down to escape the glare. Hiccup felt Astrid’s arms around him tighten to the point of pain as they plummeted, but he was too worried about the dots of light which danced across his eyes that for all intents and purposes, blinded him.

Toothless had to have been feeling the same effects as him, only to a greater extent since he got the full brunt of the attack. The came close to plowing into the ground only for the Night Fury banked hard, pulling back up from the dive. Astrid’s grip became even more unbearable before relenting when Toothless evened out and changed their trajectory away from what could only be the Flightmare.

“Okay. Well, it certainly lives up to the hype,” Hiccup greedily sucked in huge gulps of air. He had only the vaguest of memories about the last time the Flightmare and Aurvandil’s Fire had come to Berk; the dragon glowing had not been one of them. Then again, the last time had been a decade ago and he’d been six, it was understandable he had forgotten.

The Viking had just gotten his night sight back when he felt, more than saw Astrid’s jump to the ground. Her hold on him releasing before her boot connected with his back and then he was the only one on Toothless’s back. Green eyes snapped downwards in time to see the shieldmaiden land harmlessly on the ground in a crouch position. He knew what she was going to do but that didn’t stop him from demanding to know she was thinking.

“What do you think I'm doing?! Defending Berk! And my family honor! We'll see who's a coward!” she snapped, standing up and drawing her axe from her belt.

Hiccup couldn’t stop the shieldmaiden’s recklessness, not when he and Toothless were cantering straight towards the valley walls. The Night Fury keep them from crashing by pitching back, ascending straight up the wall and couldn’t turn back around in time. Doubling back, he was already too late. Astrid was already running towards the dimly glowing beast.

Due to the muted illumination, Hiccup got his first good look at the Flightmare and it looked nothing like he expected. It wasn’t gigantic as he had assumed, but only slightly bigger than Toothless. The phantasm neon blue glow had hide a head similar to that of a Fireworm Queen but with only one nose horn and the addition of three little wavy spines underneath its maw. Barbs went from behind Flightmare’s head all down its long body stopping just before a split tail.

However, it was the dragon’s wings that caught the Dragon Rider’s attention. They were covered in tiny spots which glowed brighter than the rest of the dragon’s body. The wings then tapering off at the ends in streamers which swaying with each flap. Overall, the Flightmare’s wings reminded Hiccup of a starry night’s sky lit up by Aurvandil’s Fire.

“Leave Berk now, and never come back! Here I am, ungodly beast, Fearless Astrid Hofferson! Come and get me, if you dare!” the shieldmaiden strengthened her stance, hefting her axe up high as an intimidate tactic to a dragon three times her size. To say it wasn’t working would be an understatement.

“ _ASTRID!_ ” Hiccup shouted in alarm, knowing the reckless blonde was inviting trouble and there was no way he couldn’t get to her in time. Even as Toothless dove at the battle ready shieldmaiden, the Flightmare was already upon her. A jet of blue-green liquid spewed from its mouth – which was a slight relief that it wasn’t fire – aimed straight at Astrid. The mist coated her from head to toe, sinking into the girl’s skin and leaving behind a glistening sheen.

The Head of the Academy could only watch in horror, not knowing what the blue-green substance was or what it would do to her. He couldn’t see any visible injures when the glow dissolved and Astrid just stood there. Frozen in place even as the Flightmare doubled back around, heading for her once more. This time the dragon wasn’t messing around and had its sharp teeth bared, ready to strike.

Toothless was still too far away to prevent the glowing dragon from feasting on shieldmaiden’s flesh and yet, Astrid’s skin was left intact. Hiccup caught the tail end of someone darting out from a hidden passage way in the rock wall before the blonde was tackled to the ground. Not a second later Hookfang exploded out through the same passageway. Blazing wings unfurled and a massive roaring battle cry shook the valley as the Monstrous Nightmare intercepted the glowing dragon, keeping it away from the two vulnerable humans underneath him.

The Flightmare was forced to deviate, aborting its attack on Astrid to avoid plowing into the larger dragon. Toothless had to pull up from his own nosedive to avoid colliding with either of the other dragons. The Night Fury flared out his wings to slow down and hovering a distance away from the two tangling dragons.

“Yeah, you go Hookfang! Fire it up!” Snotlout cheered from the Monstrous Nightmare’s back as the two flew after the Flightmare.

Flames erupted across Hookfang’s body, lighting up similarly to how the Flightmare’s body was releasing a blue-green glow to blind its opponents. The Monstrous Nightmare’s flames won out, producing a screech from his opponent as it retreated back a distance but didn’t fly away. The Mystery-class dragon then turned back and its glowing blue eyes locked onto the flaming Stoker-class dragon. Screeching, the Flightmare dove at Hookfang in a blitz attack. The glow from its body getting brighter and brighter as it gained more and more speed.

“Okay. Gotta go!” Snotlout turned Hookfang around and flew close to the ground. The Monstrous Nightmare pulled his wings tightly into his body allowing the strong Viking to reach out and grab hold of the frozen form of Astrid being lifted up by his companion, hefting her up on to Hookfang. It all took a second, but Snotlout had the shieldmaiden safely situated behind him and was hurtling away from the income Flightmare. However, there was enough time for the Monstrous Nightmare to pick up only one of the two on the ground.

Toothless was already in action before Hiccup realized what was happening, pitching towards the lone figure and grabbing the person with his front paws and continuing on without missing a stride seconds before the Flightmare was upon them. The Night Fury then took to the sky, following the red dot ascending into the clouds and hovering in the foggy patch silently as the glow of the Flightmare zipped by their hiding spot and back towards the Northern Swamp.

“I think we lost him,” Hiccup finally dared to speak when the blue glow from the Flightmare was no longer visible. He glanced over towards Snotlout and Hookfang, the former of which was having difficulty keeping his passenger’s axe from stabbing him in the back.

“For now at least,” the broad-shouldered Viking agreed, at long last being able to shift Astrid’s stiff arm to the side.

With the weapon no longer poking him, Snotlout flew the Monstrous Nightmare out of the clouds. Hiccup was forced to follow his lead and glided after his cousin. Hookfang was the first to land and lowering his head to allow his rider to dismount. Although, pulling the motionless form of Astrid off of the dragon’s neck turned out to be a little bit of a hassle. While the brunet Viking struggled with getting the shieldmaiden down, Toothless hovered over the ground. Tenderly the Night Fury set down his extra passenger on the ground before flying back up a little ways and landing next to Hookfang.

“Astrid!” Hiccup’s hands fumbling with his harness which had done its job in keeping him in the saddle during the fast flying but was now keeping him from ensuring the blonde shieldmaiden’s safety.

Once free from the straps, the auburn haired teenager dismounted and hobbling over to Snotlout’s side. He yanked the girl out of Snotlout’s hold and shook her by the arms a tad bit.  He wasn’t sure if it was out of anger or relief that she had survived, but ended chalking it up to being a little of both.

“What… what happened?” Astird asked coming out of her frozen daze. Her arms were sluggish and jerky as she grabbed hold of her head, cringing in pain.

“You were being an idiot and attacked a dragon head on,” Snotlout snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. Hookfang gave a snort of his own, smoke coming out of his nostrils and wore the most unimpressed expression on his face.

“Snotlout, now is not the time,” Hiccup chided his cousin, even though for once they were both on the same page.

Astrid’s actions were brash and inexcusable, something which he had expected from the brunet Viking standing beside him and not the shieldmaiden in front of him. However, as he said, now was not the time for reprimands. They still had the Flightmare to deal with. Yet, because of shieldmaiden’s foolish behavior, Hiccup had first-hand experience with the Mystery-class dragon and noted something significant.

“The Flightmare sprayed you with some kind of mist. It paralyzed you.”

“It froze me,” Astrid sucked in a breath with a dawning realization.

“Well, I guess the good news is the effects are only temporary, just long enough for it to strike,” the Head of the Academy released his hold on the blonde’s arms and took a step back, rubbing his chin. Vivid green eyes gazed down, seeing nothing as he considered what this could mean.

“I knew my uncle wasn't afraid of that dragon. He was paralyzed by it,” the shieldmaiden ranted, feeling vindicated there was a reason behind Finn’s inactions other than he’d been afraid. She completely overlooked her carelessness, too wrapped up in returning her family’s honor to be concerned about the angered Flightmare.

“Yeah, just like you,” the broad-shoulder Viking mocked, waving his hand in the direction the Flightmare had flown off in. “I guess it runs in the family; too proud to get out of the way.”

“Why don’t you say that to my face,” Astrid snapped out of her euphoric state and rounded on him. Blue eyes met blue in a battle of wills, picking up where they had left off earlier in the day. The shieldmaiden went as far as taking a step forwards, raising her axe up slightly but never breaking eye contact.

“I believe I just did,” Snotlout shot back, arms unfolding and hands clenching into fists. Behind him, Hookfang stood up straighter and a shimmer of heat appear over his body with a few patches of flame flickering to life here and there only to go out.

Hiccup stepped between the two for a second time that day. “Guys, guys, now is not the time.”

“He started it,” Astrid whined like a prudent child, crossing her arms over her chest being very carefully not to nick herself with the axe.

The auburn haired teenager had to refrain from shaking his head; he ended up choosing to ignore the shieldmaiden in favor of speaking with Snotlout. “What are you doing here? Berk is supposed to be on lockdown.”

“We _were_ trying to divert the Flightmare before it ever reached Berk. We could have done it too, if you people hadn’t have intervened,” blue eyes rolled as his muscles lost their tension. “Fawn informed us the algae which flows down the river from the Northern Swamp is the Flightmare primary source of food. She thinks others dragons and humans are trying to take her food and see them as a threat to her survival.”

As his cousin spoke, a small burnt orange ball of light appeared from underneath his cloak as a little Dewdrop Faerie peeked out. When she was sure there were only friends among them, the little fae flew out from under the black bearskin cloak and landing on top of the brunet Viking’s shoulder. Fawn then proceeded to gesture angrily at Hiccup and Astrid, heated chimes flew from the little figure’s mouth as the burnt orange orb surrounding her grew and retracted in size.

The broad-shouldered Viking calmed the worked up Wyldfae down by patted her on the head with a single figure before turning his attention back to the interlopers.

“Fawn was in the middle of persuading the Flightmare we didn’t want her algae and if she made a detour around Berk – meeting back up with the stream outside of the village – she wouldn’t be attacked and her food would be undisturbed. She had almost convince the Flightmare too when you muttonheads flew into her territory and set her off,” Snotlout informed them with a perturbed look on his face. Tinkering sounds came from the Wyldfae on his shoulder who had her arms folded and was nodding along with every word spoken.

Hiccup stared at his cousin slacked jawed; he had to blink a few time to make sure it was Snotlout standing beside him and not someone else. “You actually were trying to help the village?”

The glare the Head of the Academy received was partly justified, because while Snotlout had done some underhanded things – like selling water during the Whispering Death incident – he was not about to allow a dragon to destroy the village.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t about to let Jackson face the Flightmare all on his own,” the brunet Viking jerking his thumb behind the two other Dragon Riders.

Whirling around, Hiccup could only gap at the missing Druid sprawled on the ground with Toothless lying on top of him purring contently. Even though he was stuck underneath the Night Fury with a frown on his face, the corners of the brunet’s lips were twitching upwards as he fought to keep from smiling, trying – and failing – to stare down the dragon on top of him. Overall, Jackson looked none the worse for wear in his week long absence. In fact, he actually looked better than the auburn haired teenager remembered.

“I would have been fine by myself!” Jackson yelled out, having been listening to the Dragon Riders despite his amber eyes being focused on the dragon above him. He tried to sit up only to be pushed back down when Toothless wriggled a bit, snuggling into the Druid.

“Two words for you: Terrible Terrors,” Snotlout snickered, grinning hysterically when Jackson to flop back down after his hard won effort to prop himself up on his elbows.

“I hate you. You are no longer allowed to speak to Finn. Never… ever… again,” the brunet groaned out in humiliation, throwing the arm holding his staff over his eyes to hide away from the world.

The dragon on top of him whined in sympathy before attempting to cheer him up by licking the brunet’s exposed face. Jackson let out a startled yelp, arms flailing around his head. He worked to gently push the purring dragon’s head away with his staff but it proved to be futile and he had to change tactics. Shielding his face the best he could from the rest of the Night Fury’s tongue swipes.  

“Hey! A little help here, please?”

“You said you could handle it on your own,” the burly Viking guffawed. Hookfang snorted out a ring of smoke, trying desperately to hide it behind his wing as the Monstrous Nightmare laughed at Jackson. It only earned him a glare from the Druid. A glare which quickly turned into a smirk as he whispered into one ear-plate and a low powered plasma blast was directed in Hookfang’s general direction.

“Thank you Toothless, at least someone around here appreciates me,” Jackson awkwardly patted the dragon from his position underneath the Night Fury. “But, could you please get up off me?”

Toothless let out a small warble before closing his eyes and for all intents and purposes, appeared to go to sleep.

“ _Fantastic!_ I take that as a _no_ ,” the Druid said drily, throwing his arms out behind his head and looking skywards.

Hiccup, stifling his own snickers, walked over to the Night Fury and tapped him on the wing with his foot. The result was one acid green eye peering out through half opened eyelids. “Alright Bud, that’s enough for now. We have to track down the Flightmare.”

The dragon gave out a disgruntled grumble but eventual climbed off of Jackson. Not before one more lick to the Druid’s face resulting in a shriek of indignity. Hiccup held out his hand to help Jackson up, but he just tossed his staff into the air and kick-up off the ground. Landing on his feet, he brushed his shoulders off before looking up and grabbing his staff out of the air as it came down. A soft tinkling sound caught his attention and green eyes were drawn to a clear crystal dangling around the staff.

“Show off,” Snotlout grumbled coming up to stand beside the other brunet and breaking Hiccup’s eye contact with the clear jewel. For a moment, he swore he saw images in the crystal but that couldn’t be true.

“Just because you haven’t mastered the kip-up doesn’t mean I’m showing off,” the taller brunet shot back, lazily stretching his arms. The cheeky grin on his face told a whole different story.

“Yeah, whatever,” the burly brunet brushed off as he climbed up Hookfang’s back and slid into the saddle. Fawn flittering around the Monstrous Nightmare’s head before sitting down on his nose and latching onto Hookfang’s tiny horn located between his nostrils. “Now let’s get going, we don’t have much time.”

“And since Plan A didn’t work, Plan B it is,” Jackson nodded, gazing off into the distance with a calculating look.

“It’ll be faster if we fly,” Snotlout pointed out, knowing the Druid was looking for the best possible route to get to where they were going.

With one more glanced around him, the brunet conceded the point with time being of the essence. “Fine, just make sure Hookfang doesn’t fry me.”

“Oh please, you haven’t ever flown with us yet and you’re already complaining,” the Monstrous Nightmare rider offered a hand to Jackson.

Before Snotlout could grab hold of the Druid’s hand, Toothless got between the larger dragon and the brunet. The Night Fury growled something at Hookfang which had the other dragon taking a step back. He then turned to look at Jackson with wide innocent eyes and motioned to his back.

“Uh, I don’t think Toothless want me to fly with you,” the brunet uncertainly commented, causing the Night Fury’s ear-plates to perk up.

Toothless looked towards rider before bouncing around Jackson and pushing his head into the Druid’s knees causing them to buckle and the teen to let out a startled yelp. The dragon used the Druid’s unsteadiness to boost him into the air and into his saddle. He then proceeded to do the same to Hiccup.

“Toothless!”

“Oh, I’m not riding with Snotlout,” Astrid took a step toward the black dragon with every intention of hitching a ride with them.

The Night Fury however, wasn’t having any of that and took a step back before launching himself into the night’s sky. Leaving the shieldmaiden strained there to either ride catch as ride on Hookfang or be left behind.

“Hey, I’m not anymore pleased with this than you are,” Snotlout did not even bother to offer her a hand up. He already knew she wouldn’t take it and it was best to let Astrid hoist herself up. The blonde teenager had just gotten situation on Hookfang when the Monstrous Nightmare took off after Toothless.

“So where are we headed?” Hiccup asked once they were in the air, taking a glance back at the other teenager trying to catch his eyes. He wanted to apology for how he had left things the last time they had seen each other. Yet, he wasn’t sure how to bring it up.

Jackson wasn’t even looking in his direction, amber eyes focused below them, searching for something. “Just follow the river.”

“Which one?” the Night Fury rider asked unsure if the foreigner even realized how many different rivers ran through Berk. In the spring – well, what passed for spring in Berk – there were double the number of rivers and streams due to the snow runoff and a few of those were still running.

“You’ll know it when you see it,” the Druid disregarded his questioned glancing up at Aurvandil's Fire.

Hiccup was not sure what the other teenager meant but that was before he looked down and immediately identified the steam he was meant to follow. “What in the name of Thor?”

“That would be the algae the Flightmare eats,” Snotlout answered having flown Hookfang next to Toothless while vivid green eyes were preoccupied with the stream below him. It was hard not to stare, what with one of the rivers glowing just as brightly as Aurvandil's Fire above. Even Astrid was staring, distracted from her mission of revenge to take in the beauty below.

“It’s glowing,” the shieldmaiden breathed out, the harsh edge to her voice which had been there all evening long was no longer present.

“The glow is some sort of reaction to Aurvandil's Fire,” Jackson explained. How he knew this information, no one was asking; they just attributed it to him being a Druid. “Just follow the glowing river.”

Hiccup finally pulled his eyes away from the bluish-green winding river and caught sight of amber eyes twinkling in the glow. A lump formed in his throat as a stray thought drifted to the forefront of his mind. Had Jackson done all this to prove to them – to prove to _Hiccup_ – that he wasn’t a liability regardless how dangerous the situation was?  

Feeling the needed to address his concerns, the auburn haired teenager spoke up in a low voice so only the Druid would hear. “Jackson, I’m sorry for what I said before. I am, but if you’re trying to prove something to me-”

Jackson cut him off before he could get going. “You can stop right there, Hiccup. Not everything is about you. I’m not out here because of anything you did or said. I’m out here because Fawn asked me for assistance and I obliged.”

“But what I said-” Hiccup tried again, feeling it was somewhat his fault and again, he was cutoff.

“Don’t worry about it,” the brunet brushed him off like it was nothing. “I know not to take what other people say too seriously. It’s better that way. People only end up hurting you if you let them and I’ve learned not to let anyone hurt me. I’d rather spend my time doing something productive then wallowing in despair.”

The Dragon Rider fell silent, wondering what had transpired to hurt Jackson so badly that he wouldn’t allow people in. Logically, it could have been the king hunting down his people and slaughtering his family. However, the Viking got the feeling this hurt was different, that it was a deeper, soul scarring wound. A wound which never had the chance to heal. One still opened, raw and bleeding out because no one bothered to treat it.

“Hey, what’s that?” Jackson asked, breaking the chief’s son out of his deep thoughts. Vivid green eyes followed the direction the Druid’s staff was pointing and found two dragons flying in their direction. A closer inspection revealed them to be Fishlegs on Meatlug’s back with Stormfly at her side.

“It’s Fishlegs, and he’s bringing reinforcements,” Hiccup reassured the Druid. Although, he was curious what made the heavyset Viking leave his campsite.

“Stormfly! Thank Thor you’re here,” Astrid joyfully called out to the Deadly Nadder, jumping from Hookfang to land on Stormfly’s back when she was within range. “Good to see you, girl.”

“Flying with you isn’t a pleasure for me either,” Snotlout grumbled, veering off so he was flying on Toothless’s other side and away from the shieldmaiden.

“Hiccup!” the heavyset blond called out when Meatlug reached the small dragon pack. “I think I figured out why the Flightmare takes the same route to Berk every decade. It always follows the stream from the Northern Swamp into the village because-”

“She’s following the algae, we already know that,” the auburn haired Viking cut Fishlegs off.

“How…how did you figure it out?” the Gronckle rider visible deflated, having the winds taken out of his sail.

“We had a little help from the local Wyldfae,” Hiccup indicating to brunt orange glow coming from Fawn riding on Hookfang’s nose. Looking over at the Dewdrop Faerie, Fishlegs did a double take upon seeing Hookfang and Snotlout.

The Gronckle rider didn’t mention their presence, instead turning his attention back towards the Head of the Academy. “Well, I at least figured out a way to stop the Flightmare from reaching the village. We have to cut a new channel for the river and divert the flow of glowing algae out to the sea!”

“And what of the environmental impact?” Jackson questioned, drawing the heavyset Viking’s attention from Hiccup to his passenger.

Blue eyes widened while his eyebrows disappeared underneath his helmet. “You found Jackson?”

“More like he found us,” the Head of the Academy corrected, glancing back at the Druid who had one of his eyebrows quirked up.

“I didn’t know I was missing,” the brunet remarked drily before shaking of the comment. “As for your plan, did you even consider the repercussions? What of the local wildlife that depends on the flow of the river staying how it is?”

“Our Plan B is better!” Snotlout shouted out, having Hookfang speed up so they were in the lead before swerving to the left and away from the glowing river.

“And what is this Plan B we keep hearing about?” Astrid asked, flying Stormfly closer to Toothless and further away from Hookfang. However, since the Night Fury veered off to follow the Monstrous Nightmare, the Deadly Nadder was forced to fly closer to the Stoker-class dragon after all.

“Down there,” Jackson leaned over to the side and pointed his crook and by extension the crystal hanging on it, down towards a patch of the river when they crossed paths with the glowing algae again. Hiccup had to squint but in the limited light, he made out a depression in the landscape off to the side. As they flew closer to the ground, a shadowy figure stood out surrounded by a few balls of multicolored light floating around. “Toothless, can you land off to the side of the chasm? Don’t land in it, okay?”

The auburn haired Dragon Rider wasn’t sure what he should be more surprised at, that the Druid asked the Night Fury or that he didn’t mind. Toothless gave an affirmative coo and did as the brunet asked. He was the second dragon to land on the ground, settling down next to Hookfang. Stormfly, on the other hand stayed in the sky, circling while Meatlug was still a few lengths behind.

“Take it Plan A fell through?” the person on the ground spoke as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, feet spread and equal length apart while his hand clenched and unclenched repeatedly. It was a stance Hiccup and the rest of the Dragon Academy members had become extremely familiar with and were on the constant look out for. For those who used the stance were the Vikings who felt uncomfortable around dragons and were attempting not to pull out a weapon and attack the creatures as had been engrained in them since birth. Usually, it was from the older generation or the Vikings who had lost loved ones during dragon raids.

The Head of the Academy was a little bewildered though, because he didn’t recognize the man. Hiccup tried to remember who had a problem with the dragons and made an effort to keep them away from those Vikings after what Mildew had done just to get rid of the dragons. Yet, he did not recognize the man and he should. As the chief’s son, he had been introduced to everyone in the Berk along with the chiefs of other tribes and was expected to remember them all.

“Yeah,” Jackson answered the stranger, gracefully leaping off the Night Fury’s back and landed on the ground effortlessly.

“It almost worked. But then someone spooked the Flightmare,” Snotlout, copying the Druid, jumped from Hookfang’s neck but stumbled on landing. Fawn flew off of her perch on the Monstrous Nightmare’s nose and over to the other twinkling lights surrounding the tall blond man which – no surprisingly – turned out to be more Wyldfae.

“Uncle?” Astrid voice squeaked, rooted to her spot on the back of the Deadly Nadder.

“Lass! My Sweet Little Niece, what are you doing here?” the blond man took two steps forward and swept the girl off Stormfly’s back and into a bear hung.

With the two blondes next to each other, Hiccup could see the family resemblance. It was a little difficult with how tiny the shieldmaiden appeared with Finn massive arms wrapped around her and her feet dangling in midair but the same could be said of him when his father pulled him into a tight huge.

“She crashed the party,” Snotlout grumbled as he was swarmed by Wyldfae darting in and out of his clothing but staying away from any metal. A few of them would glow brighter when they found a piece of metal to give the others warning to stay away.

“Oh my Thor!” Fishlegs uttered just loud enough for Hiccup to hear as Meatlug finally landed. “It’s _Fearless_ _Finn_ _Hofferson_.”

“We ready?” Jackson’s voice called out, drawing the others’ attention to where he had wondered over to glance down in the chasm. The Dewdrop Faeries darted away from the brunet Viking’s clothing and into the crater, illuminating a tunnel off to the side. A few other Wyldfae fell over the top of a lip which led to a small trench heading off into the distance. “Oh, wow, you guys sure did a lot of works since we left. It looks great.”

“Just need to direct the water in and we’re all set,” Finn acknowledged, setting his niece down and picking up a wooden shove that had been leaning up against the sole tree in the area. The Wyldfae quickly moved out of the chasm and flew back to join the group of humans and dragons.

“I thought you said my plan was stupid for diverting the river,” Fishlegs grumbled affronted, having Meatlug hovered over the center of the hole.

“It is,” Snotlout grinned.

“It wasn’t thought out,” Jackson spoke up at the same time. The two brunets looked at each other before blue eyes rolled and the Druid continued. “We aren’t diverting the stream, not completely. We’re just creating a detour.”

“How so?” Hiccup asked coming to stand next to Jackson.

There were a couple of the fae snuggling up to the Druid. However, the Dragon Rider only recognized Periwinkle. Although, when she noticed him looking her way, she crossed tiny arms and turned her head away, sticking her nose up into the air. It would seem while Jackson wasn’t mad at him, Periwinkle was and she wasn’t the only one. All of the brightly colored orbs of lights were keeping a visible distance away from the auburn haired teenager.

“We’re rerouting the river through here first, creating a small pond. The tunnel will direct most of the water back to the river but some of it will flow over the lip and through the trench which leads straight to the ocean and it should carry the algae with it,” the brunet pointed out the various components with his staff and some help from Fawn’s light.

“But won’t the algae also go through the tunnel and back through Berk as well?” Astrid inquired, sounding intrigued by the plan.

“From a little trial and error, we found out this particular type of algae floats and will only sink if it’s dying. So yeah, some might still go back in the river, but not enough to worry about,” Snotlout stepped up and continued on with the explanation. The fact he knew such information showed how involved he had been in the plan.

Somehow, two Vikings, one Druid, and a handful of Wyldfae and solved a problem which had been plaguing the Hairy Hooligan Tribe since they had first settled Berk. What was even more astounding was they had figured out why the Flightmare attacked the village and it wasn’t for any reasons they would have figured. Once they had identified the problem, the small group worked to came up with a few different solutions so both parties involved would benefited. It was amazing what they had been able to accomplish.

“It's… it's… it's… it's…,” Fishlegs began to stutter.

“What is it Fishlegs?” the auburn haired teenager prodded, assuming that – like him – the heavyset Viking was struck speechless by the simplicity yet effectiveness of the plan; a plan which in part had been Snotlout’s idea.

“A live Flightmare!” the Gronckle rider burst out pointing directly behind them. Whirling around, they groups’ eyes found the neon blue glow of the Flightmare in the distance. She was no longer following the river and seemed to be searching the ground, most likely looking for them.

Jackson began speaking in the foreign language he was so fond of when he was angry or frustrated before pointing to the river and switched languages. “We need to divert the river into the chasm, and fast.”

“Okay, Bud, time for us to do what we came here for,” Hiccup swung up into the Night Fury’s saddle and clipped his harness on even as the Druid attempted to manage the rapidly deteriorating situation.

“Snotlout, distract the Flightmare with the flare thing Hookfang did earlier. It’ll distract her but won’t hurt her,” Jackson attempted to put their Plan B into motion and it might have worked too, if not for Astrid.

Despite everything, the shieldmaiden had Stormfly hurtling towards the Flightmare. Even as her uncle called out for her to stop, the Deadly Nadder blasted the other dragon with her magnesium fire which had Jackson swearing in a language everyone could understand. The Druid ran towards the side of the crater closest to the river and started to dislodge the rocks holding the water at bay using his staff as leverage. Finn was right behind him, moving the bigger rocks with the shove, but neither one of them was making any real progress.

“Get out of the way,” Hiccup called as Toothless charged a blast and fired only when it was cleared.

The plasma blew the rocks to rubble, releasing the makeshift damn. Water gushed into the chasm and filled it to the brims before the water flow creased and started to flow back the way it came. Fishlegs came to the rescue with Meatlug blasting lava down into the flowing waters while Hookfang flew overhead and dropped a large boulder onto the molten rock.

“That-a-girl, Meatlug!” the heavyset Viking cheered as she filled the final hole in the new dam. The noise drew the Flightmare attention to the Gronckle and upon, seeing the Boulder-class dragon so close to the river, she plowed towards the perceived threat.

Astrid worked to slow the Flightmare down with a barrage of spine but the glowing dragon evaded them and dive-bombed Meatlug. With nothing else in-between them, the Mystery-class dragon spat out the glowing bluish-green misted over Fishlegs. The spray did its job, paralyzing the heavyset Viking who had been unbalanced at the time of the attack and thus, wasn’t able to keep himself from falling off of Meatlug’s back.

“Hiccup, the Flightmare got Fishlegs!” Snotlout alerted the Head of the Academy to the predicament as he flew Hookfang between the down Viking and the glowing dragon. They were able to pushing her back by flaming up as Meatlug grabbed her rider by the back of his tunic before he could hit the ground.

Jackson rushed to meet the Gronckle as she landed not far away from the newly created pond, though he was surprised to find the heavyset Viking wasn’t completely paralyzed. He could still talk, but only through the side of his mouth. Everything else was stiff and motionless, thought there was a slight greasy gleam to Fishlegs’s skin that was slowly disappearing.

“What just happened to me?” Fishlegs did the best he could to speak, though it took a few tries before he was able to make sounds other than grunts and grumbles.

“The Flightmare; her mist temporarily paralyzes you,” Finn stepping in front of the two boys discarding the useless shove and drawing an impressive battle axe from his back.

“Thank Thor. I need my legs. They're in my name, after all,” the heavyset Viking spoke a bit more clearly, the paralysis starting to wear off.

“Hiccup, finish off the damn,” Snotlout shouted as Hookfang flew passed the Night Fury with the Flightmare right behind them spraying the liquid at the two. For the most part, the Monstrous Nightmare was able to avoid the spray. However, Hookfang’s tail had clearly been hit and was frozen, hanging like a deadweight.

With two of the four dragons out of commission, Toothless worked to complete the damn. Grabbing a bounder, the Night Fury struggled to lift the rock and moving it over to its new home. With the rock in place, the river water was forced to flow into the manmade pond once more. The algae swirled around the top of the pond before spilling over into the shallow stream that lead across Berk where it would pour over a cliff’s edge and into the ocean.

Looking in the opposite direction, Hiccup could see a faint glow from some of the algae in the still running river flowing through the tunnel and would headed back towards the village. The accomplished feeling welling up inside was overshadowed by fear when the Flightmare’s screech reached his ears. Two pair of green eyes swiveled toward the Mystery-class dragon head straight towards them with Snotlout and Astrid flying at her heels, unsuccessful at distracting her.

“Fly into the clouds!” Hiccup yelled even as the Night Fury head into the clouds above with Stormfly and Hookfang copying his movements.

From within the safety of the cloud coverage, they were able to watch as the Flightmare roared at the clouds but didn’t give chase. She waited for a few a minutes before heading back down to the pond and following the newly made stream out into the ocean and most importantly, away from Berk.

“We did it,” Astrid gapped as the three dragons descended, landing near the group on the ground.

“You sound surprised,” Snotlout boasted prideful, dismounting and walking over to the glowing pond. Their plan had succeeded.

“It’s beautiful,” Fishlegs admitted wobbling up to stand beside the water’s edge with the rest of the group.

“It’s magical,” Jackson corrected as the Wyldfae flew over the pond, dancing on the surface. The lights they were giving off brighten with every interaction they had with the algae, but they weren’t the only ones. “Uh, guys, take a look.”

Looking over to where his wooden staff was pointed, the Dragon Riders and Finn found the four dragons drinking from the water which wasn’t something abnormal. What was particular though, was that since they began drinking the algae infested water, they began to glow just like the Flightmare had. Even more strange was they weren’t glowing the neon blue color the Mystery-class dragon irradiated. No, each of the dragons glowed a different color: Toothless was a bright blue which was reminiscing of his plasma blasts, Meatlug – oddly enough – was emitting a particular shade of a lime green, while Stormfly had a yellow luminescence to her, and Hookfang was ablaze in an orange glow which was only a few shades lighter than Fawn.

“Now that is something you don’t see every day,” Finn chuckled while the Dragon Riders all groaned. At least they hadn’t done that when the Flightmare was around, who knows what would have happened if the dragons had actually eaten her food source and had to battle her while glowing as they were now.

“And it couldn’t have happened at the worst possible time,” Hiccup said, causing the others to look at him in confusion. “We need to be getting home before anyone notices we're gone. That will definitely make us noticeable.”

“You could wait for the effects to wear off at my hut,” Finn offered attaching his axe back into its harness on his back and collected his shove along with a satchel of supplies which had been sitting under the tree.

“Wear off?” Fishlegs asked, eagerness to learn more about the Flightmare coating his every word. “It’s not permeant?”

“Naw, I’ve seen this happen before, a decade ago. Dragons who eat the algae during the time of Aurvandil's Fire will glow like the Flightmare for a period of time before returning to normal,” the blond Viking dispelled the growing concern they would have to deal with glowing dragon from now on.

“Fascinating,” Fishlegs said which had Jackson bursting out into laughter for some unknown reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, Hiccup tries to make amends and learns Jack is more broken then he thought. Spending 300 years alone does things to a person, even one as happy go lucky as Jack Frost.


	23. Stretch in the Northern Mountains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It would seem that I've gotten a few new readers going on the comments I've received (which thank you very much for) and I'm glad everyone is enjoying the interactions between Jack and the Hairy Hooligan Tribe. I especially like writing the Snotlout and Toothless interaction with Jack in the last chapter and I'm thrilled that so many of you liked it.
> 
> Also, to ace of spades, I would like to say yes the Wyldfae are based on Disney's Pixies. Why? Because I was babysitting when I was writing the first fae interaction and that was what the kiddies were watching at the time which influenced my writing. I just went with it. However, their names and appearances are the only think I'm taking from the Disney's Pixies, because other than that, I'm more basing the Wyldfae off of the Dresden Files and mythology. Nice catch on noticing.

Jackson effortlessly navigated his way through the nonexistent path. Faerie lights glistened around the Druid as he led the way to Finn’s home. He would stop occasionally. Not to let the others catch up – which was necessary for the majority of those who had to fight to with the greenery in order to follow him – but to pick random leaves off trees or a stone from the ground. He would inspect the items, either putting it into one of his pouches or hand it to one of the various Wyldfae. A few of the Dewdrop Faeries would shimmer brighter when they received the gifts before darting off into the dark.

“Why couldn’t we fly there?” Fishlegs whined perturbed, nearly coming out of his skin when something ruffled the treetops and latched on to the lime green Meatlug at his side. He only settled down when he saw the object of the noise to be a purple ball of light belonging to one of the returning fae.

“Glowing dragons, territorial Flightmare still out there flying about, protecting her food source; does any of that ring a bell?” Snotlout waved is hand around lazily from where he lounged on the back of the glowing orange Monstrous Nightmare.

Hookfang didn’t seem to mind that his rider was relaxing on his back while he trampled through the undergrowth a few paces ahead of the Gronckle and her jumpy rider with more ease than the lumbering dragon should have possessed. He easily dodged the low hanging tree branches and swerving to the side to miss a rock protruding out of the ground, hidden by the undergrowth. Both Meatlug and Stormfly, on the other hand, were not so skilled and were having a difficult time traversing the uneven terrain as were their riders and Hiccup.

Toothless also wasn’t having any trouble. Then again, the glowing blue dragon was bounding from one tree limb to the next above their heads, following the icy blue ball of light which was Periwinkle. She was flying ahead of the Night Fury touching down on the branches which the dragon landed on. The one time he had missed the branch Periwinkle skipped across, it gave out under his weight and he plummeted. Luckily, he was able to catch himself on the limb below, clawing his way up and onto the branch.

“How much further?” Astrid asked as she and her uncle heading up the rear. The yellow glow from Stormfly blocked both Hoffersons from view but the others could still hear the occasional soft murmurs coming from their personal conversation.

“Not much further,” Finn answered for all of them to hear. He was correct too. The blue glow of Toothless soon glided down to the ground when the forest line came to an end and turned into a barren terrain. The dragon waited to make sure his rider safely exited the forest, only then did he following after Jackson who was already half around the large rock formation blocking their path. Together the two rounded the corner, Toothless trailing after the brunet while Hiccup stopped in his tracks.

Hookfang ambled on around the frozen form of Hiccup and into the clearing with no hesitation. Fishlegs and Astrid, on the other hand, had a similar reaction as their leader and came to a halt on either side of him. Their dragons, in contrast, moved faster to catch up with the others already in the glade as they followed after Toothless and Hookfang.

“It’s something, isn’t it?” Finn asked, coming up behind the three Viking teens and placing his hands on Astrid’s and Fishlegs’s shoulders. “I about had a heart attack when the first Wyldfae showed up looking for the lad. Didn’t know what to do even though Laddie had been telling me about them all Devastating Winter long; heck, I was feeding them too and didn’t even know it. Apparently, they liked it here and made it a sort of a faerie outpost.”

Hiccup didn’t know if outpost was the correct term for it. There was a haggard hut built against the far side which had seen better days. A Rowan bowl was placed by the door surrounding by rocks. However, between the stalled Dragon Riders and the hut was _life_. Plants were growing in every available space; vines creeping up the rock wall and saplings growing in various spots. Bright vibrant blooms added color to the greenery and the soft trickle of water running down the side of the rock faces, forming a small pool was just some of the more notable features.

For a moment, Hiccup could have sworn he saw a face in the water. Then again he probably mistook it for a reflection of one of the Dewdrop Faeries what with the sheer magnitude of Wyldfae in vicinity. They were everywhere. Floating idly through the air, resting on flower pedals, tending to the plants, and there were even a few riding on the back of rabbits. How they had gone as long as they had with never seeing a fae before meeting Jackson when they were clearly living on Berk in a large population was a complete mystery.

“Also, don’t let your dragons eat the rabbits. Laddie has a soft spot for them. Can’t stand to see them killed,” Finn mentioned with a resigned sigh. There was definitely a story there, yet none of them got to ask because the large blond Viking became stiff before pushing passed them. “Oh for the love of Odin! Laddie! What do you think you’re doing?”

The hunter lumbered on over towards his home where Toothless was currently running back and forth around the hut, standing up on his hind legs and grumbling. For on top of the roof was Jackson and every now and then the Druid would throw something down which the Night Fury would dart after, gobbling down before running back to the hut.

Finn stopped and pointed at Hookfang. “Snotlout! Get off ye ass and get the others settled in. Ye not a guest any more, ye need to start pulling your own weight around here if ye going to keep eating me food.”

“You got it Finny!” the brawny Viking acknowledged but made no move to get up.

“And I don’t mean at sunrise, I mean now!” Finn snapped yet he didn’t bother turning back around as he headed for a small cave to the side with his satchel and shove in hand.

“Come on, there is a pot of boar stew and yak butter parfaits inside,” Snotlout yawned, sliding down Hookfang’s back and landed hard on his feet. The brunet Viking then headed for the door of the hut like it was his own. The Monstrous Nightmare, once his rider was out of sight, scampered over to the side of the hut and sat down, begging for whatever food Jackson was throwing to Toothless and was rewarded with a treat of his own.

“Mmm, yak butter parfaits,” Fishlegs drooled scuttling after the dark haired Viking without further ado. He was so focused on his stomach that he didn’t even notice Meatlug joining Hookfang and Toothless begging for food and she wasn’t the only one. Stormfly, after a quick glance at her rider, also joined in with the other dragons.

“I don’t know if I should be more worried about Stormfly eating Thor knows what from Jackson or Snotlout being so familiar with my uncle and his hut. When did that happen?” the shieldmaiden remarked eyeing Stormfly as the Deadly Nadder shot out a few tail spikes to knock the treat out from above Meatlug only for Hookfang to steal it for himself.

“No idea, but since all of our dragons are eating whatever it is, I’d be more worried about Snotlout. He’s been acting different,” Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck, having a feeling that if Astrid looked at the alternative she would become frustrated at what she learned or didn’t learn for that matter. The more he got to know about Jackson, the more he found himself confused and exasperated. Not at the Druid – well mostly not at him – but at the situations the boy somehow always found himself in.

“Guys, you got to try this! It’s… It’s… It’s… the best thing I’ve ever tasted!” Fishlegs peered out from the doorway, holding a bowl to his chest protectively.

“Fishlegs, we’ve had yak butter parfaits before,” the Head of the Academy groaned, feeling the day and night finally catching up to him. The adrenaline in his system was running thin and he could feel the fatigue creating back into his limbs. However, the prospect of sitting down was more than enough to luring him into the hut.

“I’m not talking about the yak butter parfaits; I’m talking about this stew. It’s fantastic,” the heavyset Viking said around a spoonful of the stew, moving out of the doorway to let the other two Dragon Riders in.

There was a loud thump and then a strangled yelp. “My Stew!”

Not even a second later, Jackson came running down the roof and jumped. His staff catching on the main support beam and the Druid flew a bit outwards before swinging back, landing on the stone step. Unhooking his staff, the crystal jingled as he ran passed Fishlegs and into the hut shouting.

“Snotlout! You’re not giving all my stew away I hope! I haven’t even gotten a bowl yet!”

“Ya snooze, ya lose,” Snotlout jeered from somewhere inside, followed by a thump and a cry of triumphant. The three glanced at each other, Fishlegs hugging his bowl closer to his chest and headed back inside. Either to keep them form fighting or get some more stew before it was gone, it wasn’t quite clear. Not knowing what else to do, Hiccup followed the sounds of a scuffling indoors.

The inside of the hut reminded the blacksmith’s apprentice a little of the smithy, only it wasn’t metal sewn across the place but furs and leathers. Fishlegs was sitting at the table littered with tools of Finn’s trade and half-finished leathers and furs. A pot of what Hiccup could only assume was this amazing stew bubbling away over the fire and in the middle of it all was Snotlout lying face down on the floor. Jackson sitting on his back with a bowl of stew in one hand and his staff in the other, applying pressure to Snotlout’s hand currently not pinned underneath his own body.

“I believe it is you who have lost,” the Druid proclaimed loudly before dissolving into fit of laughter. It was rich and full of life, nothing like Hiccup had ever heard before. The sound made him feel a bit more energized than he had been a few moments prior and his heart felt lighter, less laden by the worries his father and the Academy placed on him.

“I yield! I yield!” the broad-shouldered Viking shouted, not unaffected by the laughter either as at the end, he too was snickering. Though, it was a little hard to tell, Snotlout’s words being garbled by the fact his face was pressed into the floor.

“Here Hiccup,” Fishlegs called out, absentmindedly gesturing to the bowls sitting across from him. Moreover, the Gronckle rider appeared to be way too busy savoring every single bite and totally ignorant of the friendly brawling going on not two feet away from him. It also answered the auburn haired teenager’s earlier conundrum of if Fishlegs had come in to watch the fight or eat. He should have known it was the former rather than the latter.

Sitting on the stool, Hiccup slumped down in relief as he took his weight off of his prosthetic foot. Rubbing his leg did little to alleviate the aches and pains he felt, but it did help to some extent. The only way he could reduce the throbbing sores wouldn’t happen unless he took his prosthetic off and allowed the stub time to recuperate. A good night’s sleep would help too, but neither of those options were available to him at the time. Food, while it wouldn’t help his leg, did sound appealing and Hiccup found himself pulling the bowl closer and searching the table for a spoon, which he found underneath a leather hide.

One bite was all it took. Green eyes widening before fluttering close. He wasn’t even ashamed of the moan of pleasure which passed his lips without his consent.

“I know, right? This is better than anything I’ve ever eaten,” Fishlegs gushed as he scrapped the bottom of his bowl and the auburn haired Dragon Rider couldn’t agree more.

Berk food was though as her people, but it had always been bland tasteless. This boar stew, however, was anything but. Flavor burst through his mouth with every bite and the meat, oh Odin’s beard, _the meat_! Tender and juicy which somehow covered up the gamey texture boar seemed to always have. Soon, before he even knew it, his bowl was empty and Hiccup found himself asking if there was any more.

“Not much,” Jackson answered as he came and sat down next to him with Snotlout taking the seat across from the brunet. A hard look was directed towards the burly Viking as he ate the stew with a smirk on his face causing the Druid’s glare to harden. “Someone has been eating it all and there is only enough left for two bowls which are for the others.”

“Not my fault it’s so good,” the Monstrous Nightmare rider spoke around his mouthful of stew, spraying a few drops of broth across a half tanned leather. “Besides, you can just make more latter.”

“You made this?” vivid green eyes fixated on the slender brunet. He wondered what other surprises he had yet to uncover about Jackson watching the younger teenager intently as he blew on the steaming liquid in his spoon before slowly taking a sip.

“Well, yeah. I know it’s not the best compared to what Gabe could whip up at the snap of his fingers, but it better what they serve in the Great Hall,” Jackson mumbled quietly as he fished around his bowl for another spoonful. His other hand was twitching, running up and down his staff propped up against his shoulder.

“No!” Hiccup hurried to cutoff the Druid’s ramblings – which was echoed by the other two Dragon Riders at the table – and put a stop to him brushing off his accomplishments. He was going to keep his earlier vow to help heal the wounds left on Jackson’s spirit, even if he had to go against the brunet himself to do so. “This is great. Thank you for sharing.”

“Is it ever,” Fishlegs agreed, mourning over his own empty bowl and eyeing the bowl next to the auburn haired Dragon Rider.

“See, they agree. Finn and I aren’t being bias,” Snotlout slurped up the rest of his broth.

“Thanks,” the Druid mumbled, ducking his head to the side to hide the light flush of color across his cheeks. He was only partly successful; the others couldn’t have seen it but Hiccup sure did. Jackson only turned back when the color had dissipated, the glare back full force directed at Snotlout. “That doesn’t mean you’re getting any more stew. The rest is still for Finn and Astrid.”

“Where is Finny anyways?” blue eyes swept over the area before looking towards the door as if that would make him appear.

“Astrid didn’t come in either,” Fishlegs pointed out hand reaching out to the full bowl of stew across from him.

“They’re probably busy catching up with each other,” Hiccup remarked, absentminded rubbing his legs again while using his other hand to slide the bowl out of the heavyset Viking’s reach.

“One of us should probably go get them,” Jackson said in between small bites.

“I-“ Snotlout started only to be cutoff by the other brunet.

“And thank you for volunteering, Snotlout,” the Druid acknowledged not bothering to look over at the Viking with his mouth hanging opened.

“But-“

“-Nothing,” the Monstrous Nightmare rider had the same amount of success as he did the first time as Jackson once more shut him down. Hiccup thought his cousin was going to explode at the other brunet or cross his arms and refused to comply like he had done so many times with him.

“Fine,” Snotlout bit out – much to the Head of the Dragon Academy’s amazement – defeated.

“Excellent.”

“You’re enjoying this,” he accused while pushing his stool back and standing up.

“Immensely,” Jackson smiled into his bowl as he drank the last few dregs of the broth. The broad-shouldered Viking stopped halfway to the door and opened his mouth to say something. However, he appeared to think better of it and closed his mouth, heading towards the door with only mutters under his breath.

Once he was out of the door, Fishlegs felt secure enough to talk about Snotlout behind his back. “He’s been very moody lately.”

“One tends to do that when the anniversary of one’s mother’s death is coming up,” the Druid abruptly pushed his stool back and stood up, a slight edge to his voice.

The heavyset Viking clasped his hands over his mouth as his eyes went wide, darting to Hiccup for confirmation. However, the teenager didn’t notice too busy slamming his head down on the table, making the bowl beside him vibrate. A groan escaped his throat as his head started to throb in time with his leg.

“Crap, with everything going on I forgot that it’s the anniversary of Aunt Adelaide’s death.”

“Aunt? You’re cousins?” Jackson paused before gathering the dirty bowl next to Hiccup’s head.

“Uh, yeah, our moms were sisters,” Hiccup lifted his head and watched the Druid place the dirty dishes into a large pot filled with water. For a moment, he forgot who he was talking to, since most everyone knew his whole life story better than he did himself and only a foreigner like Jackson wouldn’t have a clue since most people didn’t talk about it.

“That explains so much,” the brunet paused in washing the dishes, looking upwards with a thoughtfully expression on his face, “pseudo sibling rivalry.” He began scrubbing the bowls again, not even bother to turn around a beat latter when he added, “Fishlegs, you take another step towards that stew and you’ll be walking back to the village and from experience it takes a week on foot to get there.”

A meek yelp sounding from behind them as a bowl clattered to the floor.

* * *

“She’s a beaut,” Finn praised running his hand over the glowing yellow scales. “You’ve done good Lass.”

“You haven’t seen the half of it,” Astrid grinned, thrilled that she could share this with her uncle. “When we get back to Berk, I can show you what Stormfly can really do.”

“Lass,” the hunter sighed, letting his hand fall away from the Deadly Nadder so he could turn and face the shieldmaiden. Stormfly chirped at the loss of contact and when she saw there wouldn’t be more to come from either of the blondes, she scampered off to join the other dragons exploring the little area of bliss.

“You are coming back to Berk with us,” Astrid cut him off, her voice raising an octave higher and had a desperate tone. “We defeated the Flightmare, it’s gone for good and… and… and we can prove you didn’t freeze! It was the Flightmare’s spray that paralyzed you and we can prove it. The Hoffersons’ family honor will be restored. Your honor will be restored!”

“Oh Lass, do you think I left because my honor was besmirched?” Finn softly spoke slowly shaking his head. “It had nothing to do with my honor. I know I did my best, I did what was right, but that wasn’t why I left. I left because I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take the gossip and I let what other people say affect me to the point I didn’t know who I was. I felt my only option was to leave to find myself again. I was acting like a coward-”

“ _NO!_ You Weren’t,” Astrid raised her voice, taking a step back away and shook her head vigorously. “You Are Not A Coward. You Are _NOT!_ ”

The older Hofferson dropped to knees to level his eyes with those belonging to his niece. He carefully whipped a lone tear drop from the corner of her blue eyes and enveloped her into a crushing hug. They stayed like that for some time, Finn letting the girl’s silent sob until she ran out of tears.

“Lass, listen to me. I know it hurts to have your hero knocked down from the pedestal you’ve erected for them, but Astrid, my sweet niece,” the Viking pulled Astrid away from him and looked her straight in the eyes. “I’m only human; I make mistakes, just like everyone else. You understand?”

Sniffling, the shieldmaiden nodded her head, whipping the remaining tears away with her arm. “Yeah, I understand.”

“Good, that’s my Lass,” Finn dragged her in for another quick hug before releasing her. “Now let’s go in and get something to eat before Snotlout eats all of the stew.”

“Sounds good,” Astrid took a deep breath and attempted to put herself together. She stilled in the middle of brushing out her hair and gazed at her uncle, tilting her head to the side. “Just one more question; how did you meet Snotlout?”

“Laddie brought him over about a week ago with that dragon of his,” Finn sighed exasperated, shaking his head.

“Hey Finny! Jackson wants you to come on in,” Snotlout shouted out from the doorway, using one of his fingers to clean his ear.

“Sometimes I wish Laddie hadn’t,” the hunter groaned, placing his head in hand.

“That’s something we can both agree on,” Astrid giggled as they made their way inside.

* * *

Stoick and Gobber had been waiting all night for the Flightmare to come. The chief was currently patrolling one side of the village with a few of the sentinels and volunteers while Gobber keep lookout at the outer most hut near to the Northern Swap while Grump was supposed to paced the perimeter with him. However, the dragon had fallen asleep in the middle of his rounds and wasn’t waking up. They had all agreed to let Grump sleep when he spewed a vat of lava at the last person who attempted to wake him.

At the moment Stoick was heading towards the blacksmith’s outpost to relieve him for the evening. He was displeased when he caught sight of Gobber. It would seem like dragon, like rider for he was sound asleep a stool which had been set up next to the sleeping Boulder-class dragon and appeared to have been that way for some time.

“Gobber!” Stoick gritted out sternly as he marched towards the sleeping Viking yet the blond Viking didn’t even stir. He did start drooling though.

“Oh, that yak butter melts in my mouth,” the blacksmith muttered in his sleep, causing the drool to intensify.

“Wake up!” the chief bellowed loud but even that wasn’t enough to wake the sleeping blacksmith. Gobber just grumbled, a drop of drool falling from his lips and landed on the Boulder-class dragon underneath him. Grump jerked awake at the wet sensation, knocking the stool out from underneath his rider and startling the man awake.

Going from sleep to being alert, the blond Viking picked up the axe resting by his side and jumped to his feet, looking around for what had woken him. Upon seeing Stoick, Gobber let out an unease laugh, lowering the axe while using his hook to scratch his head just below the helmet. The blacksmith Viking didn’t even have the good sense to apologize for his actions.

If anything, his next comment had the chief even angrier than he already was. “Sorry, Stoick. I had this dream. You and me were-”

“Not another word,” the chief breathed out through clenched teeth, silently counting down to ten. When he reached seven, glowing spots which did not belong to Aurvandil's Fire caught his attention, drawing green eyes towards the lights flying towards the village. “Sound the alarm. The Flightmare is coming.”

As Gobber sounded the horn and the volunteer Vikings ran towards huts to alert the sleeping occupant to take cover while the sentinels began blowing their own horns. The signal would have Berk’s army rallying together to fight the Flightmare. Stoick grabbed the blacksmith’s axe from where he dropped it to sound the alarm and ran towards the incoming danger.

“Thor's hammer! There's more than one of them,” the chief watched as the dot came closer and broke off into four individual dots. Hefting his weapon higher, Stoick prepared himself to take on the dragons or die trying to defend his tribe.

“Wait, Stoick!” Gobber shouted noticing something familiar about the dots taking shape and threw the horn to the side. Running after his friend, the blond Viking reached him in time to catch weapon with his hook before the bigger Viking could throw it. “Those aren't Flightmares!”

The chief had to squint to make out what Gobber was blabbering on about, but the slight hesitation gave him all the time he need to see the dots grew to the familiar shapes of the Dragon Training Academy’s dragons – less a Hideous Zippleback – and they were all glowing a myriad of different colors. None of which were the familiar, but frightening neon blue glow which was associated with the Flightmare. The closest being a darker blue which had the distinct shape of a Night Fury.

“Hiccup, slap me in the face. Your dragons are glowing. I must still be dreaming,” Gobber gob smacked expression on his face match that of the chief’s as the group of dragons landed before the small crowd started to form in respond to the alarms.

“Gobber, you're wide awake. And they are glowing. Long story,” Hiccup attempted to pacify the restless crowd, unhooking his harness and dismounting Toothless. Jackson, after giving the dragon a slight pat, climbed off after him and stood to the side as the Head of the Academy addressed the growing crowd. “The good news is we drove the Flightmare away.”

“You did?” Stoick asked, running his hand through his beard. When he received affirmative nods from the rest of the teenagers, the chief dropped the weapon to the ground and threw up his arms in joy. “Well done, Hiccup! Well done! Everyone! You can come out of your homes! The Flightmare is gone for good.”

“Excuse me,” the auburn haired teenager worked to garner the attention of the Vikings as more people began to pour out of their homes and into the street. “I have an announcement to make. We learned a lot about the Flightmare tonight and I will explain it all to you. But the important thing we learned was that Fearless Finn Hofferson was indeed fearless, just like all the Hoffersons.”

There was silence and then the crowd erupted into a loud cheering mass.

“Sounds like you did your uncle proud, lass,” Gobber praised the shieldmaiden, walking up to Astrid as she dismounted Stormfly.

“Actually, my uncle did me proud,” the Deadly Nadder rider turned toward Hookfang where Finn Hofferson was awkwardly climbing off the Monstrous Nightmare’s back. “It was him and Snotlout that drove off the Flightmare.”

“It’s Fearless Finn Hofferson!” some Viking in the crowd shouted, catching sight of the large man which had the crowd falling silent.

“He drove the Flightmare away?” another Viking asked as a wave of whispers broke out.

“He saved us!” a shieldmaiden shouted, intensifying the wave of whispered into an all-out eruption of noise.

“I didn’t save you,” Finn addressed the crowd who went silent, yet there were still murmurs going through them. He looked over at Jackson who was rolling his eyes before jerking his head towards the Dragon Riders. Catching on, he turned back towards the crowd. “Not alone. It was with the help of Snotlout and the other Dragon Riders that I was able to drive off the Flightmare.”

The crowd cheered once more.

“Now, maybe we can just enjoy Aurvandil's Fire,” Stoick walking up to stand beside his son and stared up at the sky. Hiccup smiled and followed his father’s example, staring up at the brilliant display in the sky. Aurvandil's Fire really was a beautiful sight to behold, one to enjoy the loveliness of nature and not fear something to be feared.

The moment was ruined by the twins’ whining. “Hey, I want a glowing dragon.”

“Yeah, me too,” Ruffnut complained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to mention this last chapter, but I have officially writing 45 of the 50 chapters after months of not working on the new chapters (YES! Finally, stupid writer's block) and have the outline for the other 4 chapters written. I'm just having problems coming up with the ending chapter. Other than that, from this chapter to chapter 45, all that needs to be done is editing because in the outlining/writing process I tend to be horrid with grammar (even more so) in addition to forgetting having missing words which causes the sentences to make no sense whatsoever.
> 
> So, yeah, expect regular updates!
> 
> P.S. Could someone come up with a banner for this story? Doesn't have to be anything too fancy, I just want a banner saying "Soul of a Druid". I will admit I'm not art/technology savvy and have no idea how to go about creating one. I'll happily give create to anyone who makes me one (and maybe tell me how to insert it in the first chapter itself instead of just using a link). Please?


	24. Worst Competitive Streak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gahhh! You make me all want to cry with your inspiring reviews, which is what is keeping my attention focused on this story instead of one of the many other plot bunnies running around in my head before they are eventually eaten by rogue foxes of indifference. (That happened to my BvS:DoJ series I was working on...Oops?)
> 
> Higurashirose: I hope your parents aren't mad at you for waking them up at 1am squealing, I know how that goes (in my defense, it was the final chapter in a story I'd been waiting on for months). They usually give you strange looks for days on end afterwards. 
> 
> Telidina: I am really, really, really looking forwards to a banner for the story! Thank you!

Jack was back in the village after spending a week on the road with the Hoffersons and he couldn’t help but feel it was different. His short time out in the wilderness had reminded the brunet of his time as a spirit. Out there, it was all opened and unrestrictive. The air outside was full of fragrance and earthly tones while the village had a staleness to it and the winds weren’t as predominate or playful due to the buildings stifling their movements. Something which the Druid knew a lot about seeing how the winds only had him to listen to their complaints about being inhibited by the weird human made structures.

On the other hand, the village was noisy and crowded – although, nothing like the future would be – compared to the soft chirping of birds and dragons. The ex-spirit couldn’t go very far without accidently running into someone if he wasn’t paying attention and after years of being walked through, most assume he would be thrilled at even the slightest bit of physical contact. However, they would have been wrong.

Jack had quickly come to realize that even the slightest of contact with people sent his heart racing. The first time had been when Tooth had laid a hand on his shoulder after he had first become a Guardian and he had startled so badly the Tooth Fairy thought she had hurt him. He had been able to play it off as him drifting off from exhaustion and she had seemed to believe him, but her shimmering pink eyes had held a touch of doubt.  

He had a feeling Sandy might have suspected something, because he would use Dreamsand to alert the immortal teenager to his presence and gave him ample time to move out of the way if he didn’t want to be touch. Because of the Guardian of Dreams, Jack had gotten better about accepting other people’s touch when he was expecting it. However, he was still extremely uncomfortable when anyone touched him without his knowledge and unless he initiated the contact himself, didn’t feel comfortable.

Heck, even now he jumped whenever one of the other Guardians would brush up against him without meaning to. The only people who could get away with touching Jack without him startling him were the children. Which meant upon entering the village, Jack had a momentary lapse and just about came out of his skin when one of the adult Vikings had brushed up against him. He had believed, just for a moment, he was invisible again. That it was just the winds and him once more, exploring and enjoying the world.

Regardless, things were different and not just in Berk; the winds were different. Not the comforting mentor who had been there since he had first risen from his would be watery grave all those years ago, years in the future now. These winds were younger than he was used to, more childlike than the aged winds whose wisdom he had relied upon for centuries.  They were like new friends instead of longtime allies, something he sorely missed.

"Laddie,” Finn’s voice brought Jack out of his thoughts as he turned his attention to the Viking pulling a cart which held all of his merger belongings a few steps behind him. Seeing that he had the boy’s attention, Finn set down the handles of the cart and wave to the village before them, “why don't you go and take some time for yourself?"

Yet the too sharp – _fake_ , Jack’s mind supplied – smile on the tall blond’s face had the brunet realizing Finn was unnerved. The Hofferson’s blue eyes were busy taking in all the changed which had occurred since he had left the village over a decade ago and hadn't had the chance to notice on the night they had dealt with the Flightmare. After Finn had briefed the chief on what had transpired, he politely asked Astrid to take him and an empty cart back to his hut up in the mountains.

The shieldmaiden hadn’t wanted to comply until she realized he intended to pack up pack his belongs and move back to the village. Then she quickly obeyed and Jack had volunteered his assistance. Hiccup had jumped to help Finn as well and had flown the ex-spirit back to the small paradise while Finn flew with Astrid. Together, the four of them had collected the items from the hut and cleared out the remaining items stored in the cave.

With the cart fully loaded, the dragons wouldn’t have been able to lift it without losing some of the carefully balance items inside. Because of this, Finn decided to take the long way down so not to risk anything getting lost. It had nothing to do with not having to ride Stormfly again or so he assured his niece. The Guardian thought differently, but didn’t say anything.

Since they were taking the long ways back Hiccup – who had to be back in the village by morning – left them with a promise to check up on them the next day. Astrid, on the other hand, had chosen to make the trip down the mountain with her uncle and Jack went with them, declining the Night Fury rider’s offer to return with him. Although, the shieldmaiden had left their little traveling caravan during the week to assist her mother in selling some of their newly hatched chicklets at the market.

In the time he had spent with Astrid, the ex-spirit got better acquainted with the younger Hofferson and he had to admit, she might have been wound a little tight but knew how to have fun. On their first day of travel, the shieldmaiden had offhandedly challenged him to a race through in the morning. Jack won, after all, racing the winds did have its advantage. Since then, they had a race every morning with the brunet always coming out on top. Although, the last race they had was pretty close and Finn had decided it was he who had won by a leg.

Jack didn’t mind the blonde teenager’s vast improvement. He was the one teaching her a few new moves to even the playing field. Then again, Astrid had been the one to ask how to do a kip-up and he had been happy to teach her. It had just spiraled from there.

In the evening of the first day, Hiccup and Toothless had kept his promise and stopped by, but they continued to come by each evening after. The auburn haired Viking brushed it off as him spotting them during their evening flights and dropping in to make sure they hadn’t been any trouble, but the Guardian thought it had something to do with him wanting to see Astrid. Regardless of the real reason, it was kind of him to bring them some food each time he came and they chattered for a while before the Night Fury rider had to head back.

It was all rather odd to Jack and he was confused by the sudden attention the two Dragon Riders were giving him. Yeah, Hiccup and him helped each other out in the smithy and there was that one the auburn haired teenager had offered to help him collect herbs – granted, Hiccup did to try and cancel for the training drill on Dragon Island – but they weren’t exactly friends. Hence, he was hard pressed to explain either Hiccup's or Astrid’s sudden friendliness towards him, especially since they hadn’t thought he’d be able to handle going with them to help cure Hookfang.

"Yeah, and let you get lost in the village. I'd rather not have to spend my evening looking for you," the burnet shook his head, bringing himself out of his ponderings which had vexed him the last few days.

For someone who had lived in the wilderness for a decade, Finn sure had a horrible sense of direction. It was only thanks to the winds heralding the immortal teenager about their impeding fall to their deaths and Stormfly catching Finn when he did walk off the cliff that saved them. Since then, Jack and Astrid had taken turns in guiding them down the mountains.

"I'll be fine, go on," Finn reassured pushing his much smaller traveling companion forward with only the briefest of nudges. Jack turned around and gave the Viking his most unimpressed look. "Besides, Gobber volunteered to help me reacquainted myself with the village and offered me a place to stay."

A single brown eyebrow rose up into matching locks of hair, a slight grin twitching to life on his lips. "You're not lying to get rid of me, are you? Sick of me after spending a whole week with me?"

"Laddie, if I wasn't sick of you after spending all of Devastating Winter cooped up with just you and that dragon, I can certainly say spending a week with you was definitely no hardship. But I am telling you the truth," Finn laughed, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder but clumsily aborted the action. Instead he ran his hand through his long straight beard. It would seem Sandy wasn’t the only one who knew about his aversion to touch but was too nice to say anything.

"Ah, there you are. I wasn't expecting you until later this evening," Gobber called out, hobbling towards them. His hook catching on the side of someone's cart as he waved it widely about and he ended up getting it stuck. A few quick forceful pulls had the hook coming free and the blacksmith stumbling backwards in to another Viking. The other Viking just pushed him away with a disgruntled scowl that Gobber didn’t notice, too hobble over to them with a sheepish look across his face.

"See, I was telling the truth," the hunter rounded on Jack, a gleeful smile on his face. "Now, get going you. You're young, go have some fun."

"Fun is my specialty," the eternal teenager remarked, grinning at his own inside joke and conceded to the Viking’s demands. “See you later, Finn. Bye Gobber!”

Knowing Finn couldn’t get lost with the blacksmith by his side, Jack headed off. Pulling the hood of his cloak down, he looked around not too sure what to do with himself. Gobber was obviously out of the forge, so that either left it closed or Hiccup was manning it alone if he and the other members of the Dragon Training Academy had finished up their training exercises for the day. If they were finished, the immortal teenager couldn’t hang out with the twins, not know where they were wreaking havoc today. Neither could he go bother Astrid as she was helping her mother at the market and Snotlout was probably busy training at this hour.

It was still pretty early in the day, which meant the children would be busy doing chores so he couldn't entertain them with stories. The faeries wouldn't come out to the village unless he truly needed their help – they didn't like being seen by those that didn't believe – and him being bored didn't count. That only left Fishlegs as someone he knew but he didn't truly know the boy all that well, so he didn’t feel right bugging the heavyset Viking.

"Hey, do you have any ideas on what to do?” the ex-spirit inquired, crossing his arms behind his head and leaning back to look up in to the cloud covered sky. He didn’t notice the Vikings around him glance at him oddly as he appeared to be talking to himself. If he had, he wouldn’t have cared anyways.

The winds came up from behind him without any kind of answer but just a joyful laugh. Jack frowned, wondering what had them so amused, which was when he ran smack-dab into someone. The laughter in the air increasing a few folds and the immortal teen wondered if this was how the winds of his time felt when he played juvenile pranks for his own amusement. After a moment more of chuckles, the winds pulled on his clothing in an attempt to see if he was alright seeing as he hadn’t moved after the collision.

“I think I’ll just lay here for a bit,” Jack answered the winds worried queries, gazing up at the clouds. His view was obstructed a second later as a wet tongue started to lick his face. “Oomph!”

“Toothless!” Hiccup’s voice called out from behind the mass of black scales. In the next second, the auburn haired teenager was in front of him, pulling the Night Fury off of him. “I am so sorry. He usually… Jackson?”

“Hi Hiccup, Toothless,” the brunet greeted the pair from his position sprawled out on the street in the middle of what was clearly an intersection if he had bothered to pay any attention.

“I didn’t think you’d be back until this evening,” Hiccup moved back, giving Jack enough room for his kip-up. The ex-spirit didn’t disappoint and was soon standing, brushing off the dirt from the mantle of his clock.

“Took a little shortcut, knocked half a day off our travel,” Jack explained as he finished brushing off all the grim. His amber eyes then finding vibrant green and he smiled, leaning his weight against his staff. “So, how did your rescue training exercises go? Or is that where you’re headed? Ooh, can I play the rescuee?”

“No, no. Just coming back from that actually and trust me, you didn’t want to be the rescuee,” the Head of the Dragon Academy grimaced and the ex-spirit could tell he was thinking about everything that had gone wrong with the rescue drill.

“That bad?” Jack probed, curious to know what had transpired to cause the Viking’s face to contort in such a way. Toothless bumped his head against the brunet’s free hand and the Druid started to rub the dragon’s head absentmindedly watching as his rider’s face went through an array of emotions and finally settled on lackluster.

“Snotlout knocked the head off our dummy and then set it on fire,” the Dragon Rider dully offered, running a hand through his hair and messing it up even further than it already was.

“Ouch,” the immortal teen winced in sympathy for the dummy, his hand falling away from Toothless’s head as he focused his complete attention on the dragon’s rider. “It couldn’t have all been that bad, right?”

“It was,” Hiccup groaned as the Night Fury came around to his side and begged for attention from him since the brunet was no longer petting him. He was rewarded with a scratch behind his ear-plate and a quick pat on the head.

“How so?” Jack asked turning the corner, following Toothless who had taken the lead now that there was no one paying him any attention.

“It’s the others. They got it in their heads that competition is the very essence of life itself or something like that. But we’re supposed to be a team. Everyone has their own role. No one person is better or more important than another,” the auburn haired teenager’s voice rose and he began gesturing his arms around forcefully, getting it all off his chest in one outburst.

The Guardian let him rant; allowing him to unwind some because he really wasn’t going to like what Jack had to say. “Hate to say it Hiccup, but they are right. Competition is good for a group, keeps the members motivated and working to better themselves to keep from being left behind. It also helps stimulate new ideas and keeps things from being repetitive.”

“But-” Hiccup was already to defend his side but the ex-spirit didn’t give him the chance.

“But, you are right too,” Jack continued on as if the Viking had never spoken, gracefully stepping out of the way of a woman holding two sheep on her shoulders. “You are a team, everyone has their roles to fulfill and each is important in their own way. Competition is good only so long as it is friendly and not taken too seriously. Otherwise, it can lead to inner team fighting. There’s a balance there which just needs to be maintained, that’s all.”

The chief’s son was quiet for a moment. “I never thought of it that way. You and your Druid ways of balance just has to make sense, doesn’t it? Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.”

“Me and my Druid ways? Wait, what won’t be so bad?” the immortal teenager asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. This was turning out to be very interesting, especially with their former topic. There was some kind of competition afoot which had a high probability of being fun if he could find a way of joining in.

“Don’t exactly know, but Fishlegs is setting up something to prove who is the better dragon trainer on equal fields,” Hiccup dashed the Guardian of Fun’s idea of participation in the competition. Well, not as a contestant anyways.

“Cool, can I be the judge?”

Green eyes glanced over at him, definitely taking in how he was vibrating with excitement at the prospect of being a judge. “Uh, sure; if the others don’t mind that is. They should be at the Academy now, if you want to ask them yourself.”

“Great! Let’s go then! Toothless, lead us to the Dragon Academy!” Jack called out to the Night Fury who let out a trill and changed directions to head towards the requested destination. Turning back to the Dragon Rider, a frown covered his face. “Where were we headed before?”

“I-” Hiccup started, looking around their surroundings and finding the same thing the ex-spirit had taken noticed of a few moments prior. They were nowhere near where they had started and they could have been walking in circle for all Jack knew. “-have no idea. This is what we get for letting Toothless lead.”

“Well, he’s doing a pretty good job of leading us to the Academy now,” the burnet shrugged. He didn’t train dragons and if the teenager who did train dragons beside him didn’t know where the Night Fury was leading them, he wasn’t going to dwell on it. It wasn’t his expertise.

True to Hiccup’s prediction, the rest of the Dragon Riders were at the Academy. Most of them were scattered around the area, standing in various spots around the field and throwing quick glanced to the middle where Fishlegs stood with a large wooden container at his feet. Jack soon found out why when his eyes were drawn to the crate as it wobbled on its own and a few odd noises came from within.

“Good, we’re all here. Now we can begin,” Fishlegs started when he caught sight of the Head of the Academy walking through the entrance. Not giving anyone the chance to say a thing, let alone greet the newly return Druid, the heavyset Viking gesturing for them all to converge around the crate.

Snotlout did nod a greeting to the brunet as he made his way toward the rumbling crate which had Jack using the hook of his staff to salute back. Astrid too gave him a quick grin as they fell into step with one another which he returned. However, the twins weren’t all the subtle in their greetings, waving at him which ended up dissolving into a slapping fight between the two when they kept on hitting each other. The fight came to an end when Fishlegs removed the lid of the crate with a flourish to reveal six small dragons.

“Terrible Terrors? This is your level playing field?” the brunet Viking incredulously asked, eyebrows disappeared beneath his helmet and Jack had to agree with his doubt. However, his doubt steamed from the fact those little critters seemed to have it out for him.

“As a matter of fact, yes. We'll all choose a Terrible Terror and have a day to train it. And then we'll find out who's best,” Fishlegs replied a proud smile splitting his face in two for coming up with such a brilliant idea.

Snotlout burst out in to an uncontrollable fit of laughter after the heavyset Viking was done explaining the idea for the competition. He was laughing so hard that he started to slap his knees as he fought to get a fresh breath of air. Jack on the other hand thought the contest sounded like a great idea. However, he would have preferred it if they had used a different type of dragon. His concern was proven correct when a green Terrible Terror spotted him slowly inching his way back – apparently he should have gone with the get the hell out of Dodge retreat instead of the slow stealthy withdrawal he had been going for – and proceeded to launch itself at the immortal teenager.

“Gah!” Jack yelped as the little guy wrapped his front paws around his neck and proceeded to sing. He tried to pull the Terrible Terror off him, yet that only made the dragon cling on tighter, he even tried to climb down the front of his white shirt.

The other Terrible Terrors looked over to the commotion and they too flew at the flailing Guardian when they spotted him. Toothless – and how could Jack ever thing of him as a black menace when he was clearly a savoir was beyond him – jumped before the struggling brunet, firing a warning blast at the small flock which had them dispersing. It didn’t stop the Terrible Terrors though as they flew in various directions, all heading back towards their original target.

Thankfully, the Dragon Riders had the good sense to pluck a dragon from the air and hold on to them, preventing them from going after Jack. While the Dragon Academy members captured the loose Terrible Terrors, Hiccup provided the brunet assistance in prying the little green dragon off of him, much to the immortal teenager’s everlasting appreciation.

“Oh, man. I can't keep a straight face,” Snotlout’s laughter once more rang out through the arena. “Finn wasn’t lying when he said Terrible Terrors go after you. Just wasn’t in the way I imagined it.”

“I fail to see the humor, Snotlout,” Jack grumbled as he rearranged his cloak on his shoulders while keeping his distance from the green Terrible Terror trying to claw his way out of Hiccup’s arms all the while looking right at him. “And if anyone’s Terrible Terror flies at me like that again, they are automatically disqualified!”

“And that is up to you why?” Astrid asked, struggling to keep ahold of the aqua colored terror in her arms.

“I told him he could judge the contest. He would be an impartial judge,” Hiccup explained, fighting with the Terrible Terror in his arms. Toothless, the savior he was, walked over to his rider’s side and growled at the small dragon. When that didn’t get the dragon to calm down, a charge began to building up in warning which had the Terrible Terror calming down.

“Seems fair to me,” Snotlout grimaced as the purple Terrible Terror latched onto his arm – thankfully over his arm bracer – by his teeth and didn’t seem to be letting go any time soon.

“Agreed,” the twins said in unison, head-butting each other. The action also resulted in their yellow Terrible Terrors banging heads together as well, knocking the dragons out and creasing their struggles. Both of them held up the limp yellow dragons to eye level, inspecting them before trading them with one another even though they looked exactly the same to Jack from his vantage point a few yards away.

“Well, I guess,” Fishlegs agreed hesitantly and the ex-spirit could tell he was not happy his contest was being taken away when it really wasn’t. Jack was only the judge to prevent favoritism and the Gronckle rider had already laid out the rules, so it was still his contest. Luckily, the orange Terrible Terror in his arms starting to fight for its freedom which diverted the heavyset Viking’s attention elsewhere before any protests could be brought up.

“It’s settled then, Jackson will be our judge,” Astrid nodded, flashing him a smile which was returned.

“This is going to be fun!” the Guardian of Fun all but jumping up and down, giddy with anticipation. “Okay, we’ll meet up tomorrow at midday for the judging. In the meantime, I’ll stop by to check on each of you to see your progress and provide some advice.”

“Sounds fair,” Hiccup nodded in agreement, clearly relieved that the competition wasn’t going as horrible as he envisioned. He would have continued, but the one facet of competition which seemed to be mandatory between high spirited individuals finally bubbled to the surface. Jack had expected it, but he knew the auburn haired teenager definitely was not going to appreciation the trash talk.

“You don't have a chance to win this, Fish-Face, and you want to know why? Because there are readers, and there are doers. And while you've got your nose buried in _The Book of Dragons_ , I'm out there kicking names and taking butts,” Snotlout boasted and the ex-spirit had to hide his smile so Hiccup wouldn’t notice and disapprove. He was marveled by the brunet Viking, for a boy who had such a demanding but absentee father, he had done a good job of surrounding himself with a good group of friends that keep him grounded while he pushed them to do their best.

“I think you meant that the other way around,” Astrid corrected, handing her aqua color Terrible Terror to Stormfly to keep the little menace from escaping and going after the Monstrous Nightmare rider.

“I mean… shut up, Astrid,” Snotlout flailed trying to figure out what he had gotten wrong in the middle of his trash talk and ended up conceding when he figured he’d already been bested in the little verbal play by the shieldmaiden.

“Uh, guys, come on,” Hiccup tried to defuse the situation that – in Jack’s opinion – did not need defusing.

There was the right amount of friendly competition mixed in with discord to keep things alive and exciting while pushing each other to try their best to outdo one another. It reminded Jack of the race to collect teeth with the other Guardian which had ended up with him coming in last. Not that he cared, he had more fun during their race than he had in a long time, having someone else to compete with other than the winds had been nice.

“I'll tell you what, Snotlout. You're so confident in your dragon training superiority why don't we make this interesting?” Fishlegs challenged, moving the orange Terrible Terror under his arm so he could point at the dark haired Viking.

“Pff. All ears,” Snotlout shot back while Jack began to wonder about the brunet Viking’s pain tolerance. For throughout the whole conversation, his purple Terrible Terror was still hanging off of his arm and there was only so much protection his leather bindings separating the tiny dragon’s teeth from his arm provided. Yet, Snotlout hadn’t done more than wince and groan once when the little guy’s jaw attempted to clamp down tighter.

“Losers clean the winner's stall,” the Gronckle rider offered as if it was the worse inconvenience he could think of. Although, for all the immortal teenager knew, it could very well have been. “For a month.”

“Done,” the Monstrous Nightmare rider agreed without hesitation.

“In,” Astrid was only a second behind with her answer, having to duck out of the way of the twins ramming their helmets together. Everyone took that to mean they were in too.

“Great! I’ll start off giving the twins advice. They’ll need it the most,” Jack offered, having to duck himself to keep the twins’ helmets from making contact with his head. “Afterwards, I’ll visit Snotlout, Fishlegs, Astrid, and then Hiccup in that order. Any completes?”

The others teens watched as the twins rammed their heads together for a third time and quickly agreed with him. Tuffnut and Ruffnut would need more work than all of them combined, which was how the immortal teenager found himself leaving with the two Thorstons, but not before Toothless demanded to be petted one last time.


	25. Best Terrible Terror Show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 25! Half way there! And while this chapter felt a little slow in my opinion, the next one starts to pick things up.
> 
> As for Mihas review about Hiccup and Jack already being friends, for Hiccup, he see them as being friends. However, Jack's being his stubborn self and distancing himself from the Dragon Riders to keep from being hurt (300 years alone messed up his self worth and his ability to put his trust in people, but Hiccup's working on it). I tried to convey that through my writing, but I guess I didn't do it good enough. :(
> 
> Higurashirose, no one has called me a word smithy before...it made me smile all day long! Thanks for the uplifting review.

Jack made sure to arrive at the Academy before the Dragon Riders so he could setup a little bit. He worked to move a few of the chests and arranged the target barrels up right to create a make shift seating area. It didn’t take long for him to finish. Less time than he had even anticipated, which left him passing the time in his usual manner while waiting for the others to arrive.

The twins were the first to enter the Academy, surprisingly enough, with their yellow Terrible Terrors riding on their helmets. Barf and Belch lumbered behind their riders and cocked their heads to opposite sides when they saw the area rearranged. Thankfully, neither Ruffnut nor Tuffnut interrupt him and sat down on one of the empty chest. Double thankfully, their tiny dragons didn’t attack him either like they had when he had last seen them.

Next to arrive was Snotlout with his purple dragon hanging off one of his helmet’s horns by his teeth and Fawn riding on the top of the other horn. Hookfang, on the other hand, had chosen to stay outside the arena. Well, to be more precise, Hookfang was sprawled out over the top of arena’s chain dome. Stormfly soon joined the Monstrous Nightmare as Astrid and her aqua Terrible Terror joined them in the ring.

Toothless was the next to come bounding in. He looked around before sedately walking over to sit next to the Zippleback, joining the little crowd. Hiccup and Fishlegs followed after with their tiny dragons in their arms. Regardless of being busy, amber eyes caught Meatlug dolefully trailing behind her rider – carrying a sheep in her mouth for some odd reason – though she didn’t join the other dragons, and sat alone off to the side.

“Uh, what’s going on?” the heavyset Viking asked, looking over at the little crowd gathered around Jack. Thankfully, the Druid was finished and Fishlegs hadn’t interrupted the good part or else there might have been a riot on their hands.

“It is story time,” Ruffnut answered whipping the tear from the corner of her eye. “That Jokul Frosti always gets to me.”

“Yeah, he’s almost as cool as Loki with his pranks!” Tuffnut agreed his own eyes watery but he refused to shed a tear.

“I like Jokul Frosti better,” Snuffnut commented which had the rest of the children digressing into their own conversations and allowed Jack to weave his way through the energetic mass.

“Well, since this is a contest we need a crowd,” the Guardian grinned, answering Fishlegs earlier question. Turning so he was facing the makeshift stage, Jack’s grin soften as amber eyes swept over the animated children. “They’re going to help me judge you guys, isn’t that right kiddies?”

A cheer went through the masses as a few of them began running around the stage and seating area now there wasn’t anything else going on to retain their attention.

“Great, now that is settled, let’s us get settled. While our contestants run through their final preparation with their Terrible Terrors, let’s find our seats!” Jack called out more to the children than the Dragon Riders. The little Vikings were quick to obey the immortal teenager’s order, sitting back down on their makeshift sets and settling down while he walked up and took center stage.

A hush fell over the crowd when the brunet tapped the end of his staff against the ground. Doing his best master of ceremonies impression, the Guardian of Fun began his grandstanding and made over the top gestures to entertain the little ones.

“Lasses and Laddies, ready to be on amazed, to see the spectacular and unmatched skills of our very own Dragon Defenders of Berk. Right here, right now, in our first Terrible Terror Train Off.   Dragon Riders, prepare yourselves!” Jack commentated twirling his staff around in his hand, the crystal on the end glittering in the light and drawing the children’s attention. He then threw the piece of gnarled wood up in the air earning him a few shouts and caught it in the other hand, pointing towards the closest Dragon Rider. “Our first contestants of the day are Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third and Sharpshot with a guest appearance from the allusive Night Fury: Toothless!”

The ex-spirit departed the stage, making room for the first three competitors. Although, Jack could clearly tell Hiccup was uncomfortable in a crowd – even if they were only children – and ended up dropping one of his carved wooden ducks he was holding because his hands were shaking. He hurried to pick it up, glancing behind him to see if anyone had notice. They had, but the children were too enthralled by the Hero of Berk that none of them cared about the small blunder. It didn’t seem to help the chief’s son any and Jack flashed him a reassuring smile when vivid green eyes landed on him.

The smile, or maybe just having someone to focus on instead of the crowd, appeared to calm Hiccup’s nerves. The auburn haired teenager proceeded to finish setting up in record time and with a small nod in the brunet’s direction, he was ready to start. He walked over to the other side of the ring and held out his arm. Sharpshot, who had been sitting in the middle of the stage, perked up and scurried over, crawling up the Dragon Rider’s body to perch on the out stretched arm. That alone had the children squealing with glee which had Hiccup relaxing further.

“Ready, Toothless?” the Head of the Academy asked and the dragon let out a small cry in acknowledgment. “Now!” Toothless flapped his wing, launching the four wooden duck sitting both wings high up into the air. “Sharpshot, fire!”

The Terrible Terror jumped up into the air, rapidly aimed and fired at the targets in quick succession. The four balls of propane flames hit with deadly accuracy, incinerating the wooden ducks. A hand signal to the Night Fury had Toothless shooting off very low level blasts at different locations skywards which Hiccup signaled Sharpshot to hurl his own blasts a second later. The two blasts met in midair, resulting in tiny fireworks which the Terrible Terror flew through before landing back on the green eyed Viking’s arm.

There was a moment of silence as the last bit of the fireworks disappeared before the children erupted into cheers and loud clapping.   Hiccup was rendered motionless by the applause and didn’t look like he was going to move any time soon, though, with a discreet poke from Jack’s staff as he passed by the Dragon Rider got him moving. A red flush crossed the auburn haired teenager’s face as he waved to the crowded – Toothless preening at the attention – while they exited the stage and the Guardian took his place.

“And Hiccup starts the competition off with a bang!” the brunet started speaking, which had the noise dying down. “Now, that we’ve given Hiccup and Sharpshot a round of applause, let’s move on to our next contestant: Astrid Hofferson and her Terrible Terror, Sneaky, with assistance from the Deadly Nadder, Stormfly.”

This time, there were a few cheers and murmur though the crowd as Jack traded places with the shieldmaiden. The children didn’t seem to hold the same revere for the Deadly Nadder rider as they did with the Head of the Academy which had kept them quiet while Hiccup set it. It didn’t seem to deter Astrid any as she took center stage.

“Lads and Lasses, meet Sneaky. Now you see him,” the shieldmaiden addressed the whispering crowd, motioning to the aqua green Terrible Terror balanced on her metal shoulder pads. “Now you don’t.”

The children squealed when the tiny dragon seemingly disappeared and Jack had to blink a few times himself to make sure head wasn’t seeing things. A squeak had all their attention turning to a little girl who had one hand held over her mouth and the other pointing at Terrorthi’s helmet. For on the little shieldmaiden’s helmet was Sneaky, sitting one of the horns like he had been there all along. The children crowded around Terrorthi trying to pet the Terrible Terror only for him to disappear again. This time, sitting on top of Snotlout’s helmet where Gustav was the first to point him out, which had the crowd cheering.

“And now for the finale, Sneaky disappear!” Astrid commanded and this time, no one could find the Terrible Terror. Even when the shieldmaiden had the children search for him – and they were thorough in their search, they left no stone unturned – and still couldn’t find him. When they all gave up, the Deadly Nadder rider turned towards the waiting dragon. “Stormfly, track.”

Stormfly let out a chirp and started to sniff the ground. Another screech and she flew up into the air, right up to the dome top. Another screech in Hookfang’s face had Sneaky falling out from behind the Monstrous Nightmare’s head and tumbling to the ground. The Terrible Terror caught himself mid fall and flew over to Astrid, landing on her shoulder as the children erupted into applause and giggles.

“Thank you,” the shieldmaiden took a bow and exited the makeshift stage. Which was Jack’s cue to make his way to the front; as they crossed paths, she smiled at him and said in a low voice, “Adding Stormfly was a brilliant idea.”

“I do have those occasionally,” the Guardian chuckled before taking the stage and addressing the audience. “Teaching a dragon stealth skills, very impressive Astrid. Wouldn’t you say kiddies?” Jack asked and they readily agreed with him.   “Next up, we have the Thorston twins, Tuffnut and Ruffnut with their Terrible Terrors: Head and Butt. Also making their debut today is the Hideous Zippleback known as Barf and Belch.”

“Go Ruff! Go Tuff!” Snuffnut cheer on his family members, standing up and making a big spectacle which earned him thumbs up from his aunt and uncle.

“Let me guess,” Astrid whispered to the burnet as he walked back to stand on the sidelines to watch, “they're gonna run into each other?”

“Not exactly, but it was their idea,” Jack answered with a shrug. He attempted to only offer recommendations to build on what the Dragon Riders were already doing, since this was their show and he did not want to takeover. So while he helped them, he also allowed them to choice their own path.

Turning their attention back towards the staged, they were in time to witness the two yellow dragons fly at each other and collided in a classic head-butt. Neither Head nor Butt knocked themselves this time, which the ex-spirit thought was an improvement over what he had seen yesterday morning. The next part had Ruffnut and Tuffnut directing their respective dragons to fly around the stadium, taking turns in head-butting Barf and Belch. Their antics, while not impressive for adult standards, had the children in fits of laughter.

“Well, at least the children like it,” Astrid flashed him a smile before the immortal teenager was weaving his way back to the front of the crowd.

“Thank you Tuffnut, Ruffnut for that _unique_ show,” Jack took his place on stage, twirling his staff in between his fingers as the crystal jingled away.

“It’s our pleasure,” Ruffnut bowed, grapping Head and squeezing him into her chest. The dragon didn’t seem to mind and nuzzled into the blonde Viking’s embrace.

“Yeah, what she said,” Tuffnut agreed, working to get Butt out from underneath the back of his tunic.

“Yes, well, next up is Fishlegs Ingerman and the spectacular Iggy,” the ex-spirit announced and walked off stage with the twins, but not without resisting the urge to shake his head. Hiccup caught the action and gave him an inquiring look by a raised eyebrow. Changing directions, he headed over to stand beside the auburn haired teenager. He was quiet for a few minutes before giving in to his growing concern. “This isn’t going to go well. You know when I said friendly competition was goo?”

“Yeah,” Hiccup agreed nodding his head while watching Fishlegs set up for his performance out of the corner of his eye.

“Well, to him, this certainly isn’t friendly. He’s taking things too seriously and pushing Meatlug away,” brown locks jerked to the side and green eyes followed the motion, finding the Gronckle laying in the corner furthest away from everyone curled up in a ball. Her ear-wings were dropped down to the point of being barely visible while her whole body was slumped, defeated like. “I saw him push her away this morning when Meatlug brought him a sheep and yesterday, he wouldn’t hear of including her into Iggy’s performance.”

“I knew something was going on last night when I visited him. This was what I was afraid of,” Hiccup groaned, vivid green eyes leaving amber to focus on Fishlegs.

“If you want, I can talk to him after the competition is over,” Jack offered, feeling like this was partially his fault for pushing the contest. He wanted to have some fun, he hadn’t wanted to cause trouble within their small, close-knit group.

The Head of the Academy just shook his head. “No, I’ll talk to him.”

“You sure?” the Guardian drummed his fingers against the gnarled wood, which had green eyes darting down to his hand before Hiccup shook his head again. Shrugging one shoulder, Jack turned his attention back to the stage with perfect timing as the heavyset Viking had just finished setting up.

“Prepare to be amazed at the smartest little dragon in the archipelago,” Fishlegs preached, having the children leaning forward in their seats. Neither Jack nor Hiccup missed the way Meatlug grumbled, looking more dejected than before. The Gronckle rider didn’t seem to notice as he showed the crowd different parchments with pictures of items which corresponded with the objects he had set on pedestals across the arena. He randomly stopped on a page and presented the little ones a picture of an apple before showing it to the Terrible Terror. “Iggy, bring me this.”

The orange dragon looked at the drawing before taking to the air. He flew over the children’s’ heads, which brought forth gleeful gasps from them before Iggy hovered over the objects Fishlegs had placed at the opposite end of the ring. The Terrible Terror looked over each of the multiple objects inspecting them all before spotting the one he was looking for and dashing over to grab the red apple. He flew back over to Fishlegs and dropped the fruit into his awaiting hand.

“Good boy, Iggy. Aw, who's a good little guy?” they heavyset Viking praised the tiny dragon.

Amber eyes turned away from them and landed on Meatlug cuddling the sheep closer to her, trying to find whatever confront she could. Snuffnut, who had been looking at Jack, followed his gaze and saw the distressed dragon. He had some difficulty making his way out of the small crowd of children who were jumping up and down to be picked to choice a drawing for Iggy to retrieve one of the remaining objects.

Once he was free, the little blond boy walked over to the suffering dragon where he gave the Gronckle a giant hug. Meatlug startled greatly and only barely kept from attacking the little Viking when she took notice of who had grabbed ahold of her. Seeing the little one, she relaxed into comforting embrace, nuzzling the boy who giggled when his helmet was knocked a skewed. When Snuffnut looked back, Jack made sure to give him one of his most winning smiles in appreciation.

The Guardian returned his attention to the performance to find Gustav picking out a card of his own and showing it to the Terrible Terror. Iggy then flew and retrieved the bucket similar to the sketch. The children cheered and a few more took turns until there were no more items to be retrieved, which was Jack’s signal to make his way back on to the stage.

“A truly remarkable skill, let’s give Fishlegs and Iggy a hand,” the brunet hope the children didn’t see how fake his smile was. “And now, for our last contestant of the day; we have Snotlout Jorgenson and his Terrible Terror, Pain. Helping them today is the scariest Monstrous Nightmare on Berk and the animal-lover Wyldfae from Pixie Hollow: Hookfang and Fawn!”

Snotlout ambled on stage and set down the crate which had been Jack’s idea to stash Pain and Fawn so they could make a grand entrance for their performance. However, when he flipped the lid opened, things did not go as they had during the test run the ex-spirit had watched. Pain rocketed out of the wooden box like he was supposed to, but then he latched onto the brunet Viking’s leg wrenching a muffled scream while Fawn was nowhere to be seen. The children, who didn’t know any different, dissolved into giggles, but Jack was frowning as Snotlout attempted to pry the purple Terrible Terror off his arm.

“So let me get this straight, you trained him to bite you?” Fishlegs laughed walking on stage, clearly feeling superior.

“No! Fawn was to come out riding Pain. We had a whole routine,” Snotlout growled, hobbling over towards the crate and looking inside for the Dewdrop Faerie. “She’s not here. I put both Pain and her in at the same time.”

“That’s odd,” the Guardian came up behind him and peered into the empty crate. “Fawn usually wouldn’t disappear unless there was someone around she didn’t feel conformable with but there isn’t anyone here she does likes. Why would she leave?”

A high pitch scream had everyone’s skin prickling and Jack felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise. Whipping around, the Guardian’s eyes swept over frightened and panicked children. Amber eyes widened before sweeping over the little ones again, coming up with the same conclusion as he had the first time. There was one less child than there should have been.

“Snuffnut! He’s missing!” Jack yelled whirling about to face the Dragon Riders as an angry growl echoed from above.

Fishlegs perked up as the echo died down, eyes widening as he looked around the arena. “That was Meatlug.”

“Snuffnut was with her!” the ex-spirit felt his stomach drop, knuckles going white around his staff. The Dragon Riders stiffening while the twins turned pale, but none moved. Jack growled, his Guardian of Childhood instincts yelling at him to do something. However, when he looked at the group of frighten children before him he knew something needed to be done, and fast. “ _GO!_ Get Snuffnut back! I’ll stay here with the rest of the children.”

“Right,” Hiccup agreed his voice a pitch higher but not panicked to try and keep the children from panicking even more than they already were. “Let’s go.”

Jack could only watch as the Dragon Riders ran out of arena, following the sounds of Meatlug’s growling. His stomach becoming queasier when the Gronckle sounds died down and he didn’t hear anything else. It left him feeling on edge and tense, not being able to do anything. A tiny little chime in his ear had amber eyes looking up to find Fawn hovering above him, looking around worriedly. Her presence let him know whoever was out there was at least gone for now since she felt safe enough to come out; however, Snuffnut was still endangered.

A sorrowful chime came from her and Jack shook his head.

“It’s not your fault, don’t blame yourself,” the Guardian reassured her as he placed his hand on Terrorthi’s back, the children gathered closer to him for comfort. “Is it safe to get them away from here?” A cheerier chime and bobbing up and down was all the answer he needed. “Good, let’s get out of here.”

Feeling a tug at his cloak, Jack looked down at the little shieldmaiden looking at him with wide eyes. “What about Snuffnut? Will he be alright?”

“I…” Jack started, but he couldn’t finish. He didn’t know and couldn’t lie to them. “I wish I knew.”

Fawn thrilled, her slumped shoulders picking up before she began to weave in the air, making complicated patterns. The air shimmered and became distorted until it no longer looked like Academy wall but changed to show a Viking longboat. Jack’s jaw dropped while the children’s shocked gasps drowned out any sound he would have made. He hadn’t known Dewdrop Faeries could open viewing windows.

The image closed in on the longboat’s deck where a bunch of haggard, burly Vikings manned the ship. Near the stern of the boat was Snuffnut bound and gagged leaning on an equally tussled up Meatlug. Standing over her was a man with darker brown hair than Jack and handle bar mustache. Brown eyes keeping glancing over at the two to make sure they wouldn’t escape while he waved a sword about as a visible threat to deter any escape plans.

The second thing the ex-spirit noticed was the fact that the man was clade in a mismatch armor ensemble that looked as if they had been scavenged from various different people. His helmet with three different horns appeared to be too small for his head and the man’s right shoulder pad was metal with three spikes on it while his left is a large turtle shell. Along his left wrist, were bandages yet his right wrist had a spiked wrist band around it. A brown vest with tears and patches in it went over the top of a scalemail tunic lined with a tan hide and kept close with a strip of leather that contrasted greatly with his pale red pants and grey boots.

“There’s Snuffnut!” Terrorthi gasped, holding a hand over her mouth.

“With Savage guarding her,” Gustav gave Jack a name to the face as the image panned out to show a haggard, frail looking old man with lackluster grey eyes and bushy grey hair everywhere. The only hair which was straight was his long straight mustache hung lower than his elongated chin. He too wore an outfit similar to Savage, though his shoulder pads where made out of wood and matched along with the bandages wrapped around either arm. Unlike the other man, he didn’t have a sword, but a staff with some kind of beck carved at the top and over a half a dozen dragon teeth tied to it. “And that’s Icky Mildew.”

One of the children let out a whimper and pointed as the image changed again. “It’s Alvin the Treacherous, the Chief of the Outcast Tribe.”

Amber eyes took in the massive Viking, who looked even larger than Stoick the Vast if at all possible. The man’s hair and beard were a shaggy mess of black that covered all of his face sans his dark eyes and a scar on his right cheek. His nose looked like it had been broken a few too many times, which didn’t surprised Jack. With muscles like those, the man was definitely a brawler.

Unlike the other Vikings aboard the ship, the man’s armor was top of the line with matching metal shoulder pads, each having a row of three spikes. His right arm bracer had similar spike while the left one had metal studs. He too wore a tunic made of scalemail with a tan hide lined though his belt was of higher quality along with the dark brown leather pants and black boots. Although, his helmet was made from better quality with a pair of metal horns, there were still two additional brittle looking horns on the left side and another three on the right, one of which looked like it was about to fall off.

“Where are Snotlout and the others?” Gustav asked, tilting his head as if that would change the picture and allow him to see the sky.

Jack didn’t have an answer for him, his eyes searching the limited view they had and couldn’t see the Dragon Riders or their dragons anywhere. Well, not the large dragons at least for there, sitting on top of Alvin’s head was a familiar aqua green Terrible Terror. A mischievous smile crossed the ex-spirit’s face. This was going to be good, he just knew it.

“Look at his head and watch,” Jack pointed out to the group.

An excited murmur went through the children when they too noticed Sneaky but no one was will to talk. One of the more squeamish yelped and covered his eyes when Savage came up behind Alvin, a sword held high and aimed to kill the Terrible Terror. However, the little dragon stealthy disappeared and the Viking ended up swinging his blade onto the massive Viking’s helmet. The Outcast’s leader went down while the leaner Viking held his sword close to him looking around frantically for Sneaky.

The children laugh at Alvin’s pain but boo when the man began to get to his feet. A frightful gasp erupted from them when the Outcast chief drew his sword and the Guardian thought it might be time for Fawn to close the viewing portal. He didn’t have to worry when Iggy swopped down and grabs the sword from the huge Viking’s hand. Sharpshot – not far behind the other Terrible Terror – firing upon Meatlug’s bindings, melting the chains and burning the wood to the point the Gronckle could break free. She grabbed ahold of Snuffnut’s bound form and immediately took to the sky.

Mildew ran forward in an attempt to grab hold of the boy’s leg, but the flock of Terrible Terrors weren’t done with the kidnappers just yet. Head and Butt came out of either direction, ramming into the traitor’s skull. The force knocked the elderly Viking out which brought forth a round of applause from the children along with a few name-calling which if it was any other day, Jack would have reprimanded them for their language.

“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy,” Terrorthi said sarcastically, grinning evilly.

However, before Meatlug could get away with Snuffnut, Alvin had lassoed her with a rope and began pulling them back in. Fearful cries came from the children, only rising in volume when other Outcasts began to grab the rope and pull, reeling the dragon back towards the longboat. A purple blur shot pass the viewing portal as Pain came into view and cut through the rope, allowing Meatlug to fly away.

The children exploded in laugher and exuberance at the rescue and started to dance about in sheer excitement that the Dragon Riders had thwarted the Outcasts. Jack, on the other hand, keep watching the viewing portal, seeing Toothless’s form coming barreling towards the longboat, a charge forming in his mouth and he motioned to Fawn to close it. The Guardian did not need the kids to see what was about to happen and Wyldfae complied, the air visibly rippling before returning back to normal.

Turning to the celebrating children, a new idea began to creep into his mind. “Why don’t we go met up with our conquering heroes?”

There was a resounding yes which was how Jack found himself escorting a group of children to the shoreline to wait for the Academy members. Terrorthi was the first to notice the growing dots in the sky and the immortal teenager didn’t even try to rein in their growing anticipation. Hence the Dragon Riders were completely baffled when they touched down only to be bombarded by children and their excited comments.

“Sneaky’s stealthiness was awesome!”

“No cooler than Pain’s sharp teeth!”

“Head

Head and Butt really knew how to use their heads!”

“Yeah, Mildew didn’t even stand a chance.”

“Iggy was brilliant! He just swooped in and grabbed Alvin’s sword right out of his hands.”

“Sharpshot was amazing. I wish I could aim like that.”

“What? How?” Fishlegs stammered having been in the middle of helping Snuffnut off Meatlug’s back when they had been surrounded by the children. He turned to the others for help, but they were in the same situation, surrounded by the little Vikings with no clue to how they knew what they did. Hiccup was the only one to look towards Jack for an explanation who was grinning.

“Fawn was sorry for disappearing earlier and wanted to give us the show we missed out on,” the Druid’s grin widened. “So kiddies, who do you think should win?” Cheers and names were thrown out, which Jack just nodded his head in agreement. “It’s settled then. The winner of the First Terrible Terror Train Off is the Terrible Terrors! They worked perfectly together as a team and managed to save the day.”

There were cheers of agreement, although, Jack’s real reward was the grateful smile Hiccup sent his way.


	26. A Chilling Recollection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, sorry for being a day late on my updating schedule. This chapter was hard to write, specifically the second half. Damn you Hiccup and Jack, your emotional scenes are hard to write especially with trying to keep both of you in character. Hopefully, I achieved it.

Hiccup was a little bit worried. He hadn’t seen Jackson in two weeks, which meant he was two days overdue. The Druid had accompanied Bucket and Mulch on an expedition to provide supplies to neighboring tribes which had been raided by savages. It shouldn’t have been a dangerous since they were traveling with two of the four longboats that had come seeking aid and the chief had been assured the barbarians were long gone. However, the convoy Stoick had dispatched was not back and his father hadn’t heard a whisper about the missing longboat’s whereabouts.

What really had Hiccup upset was the fact Jackson wasn’t even supposed to go with them. Yet, now that Finn was assisting Gobber in the forge as payment for supplies, the burnet found himself with a chunk of free time which he spent with the members of the Academy. Hiccup was especially glad for an extra pair of hands in making the paints for Fishlegs’s newest scheme of tagging wild dragons from various islands to track their migration patterns. He was even more glad the Druid tagged along to Dragon Island and prevent Ruffnut and Tuffnut from covering the Dragon Riders with the paint instead of the wild dragons.

That was also when the group of Dragons Riders had come across the battered longboats slowly drifting dangerously close to Dragon Island. Hiccup had quickly flown out to keep the territorial dragons of the island from attacking the intruders only to be bombard with pleas of aid and assistance. He and the rest of the Dragon Riders had ended up escorting the boats back to Berk so Stoick could hear the petition they had requested from his son.

The Chief of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe had heard them out and after talking with his council, he agreed to provide assistance in exchange for future goods. With an agreement settled on, the Academy members had headed back out to tag the remaining dragons while Jackson stayed behind to gather medical herbs from the forest. Hiccup had been so sure they would return to Berk before the convoy had left, however, they had run into a few problems themselves.

The first problem came in the form of disappearing _islands_ that led to the second problem of why islands were mysteriously vanishing. No one like the answer of a much larger, even meaner, and – worse of all – smarter Screaming Death tunneling through the islands and causing them to sink. Thank the gods they had made it out alive and with the wild dragons’ help, the Dragon Riders had been drive the Screaming Death off with overwhelming forces. Hence, the Academy members were late returning to Berk and by that time the convoy had already left; Jackson along with it much to their surprise.

Two weeks later, Gobber was the first to notice the longboat’s absence when it was a little over a day late. Stoick had decided the best of course of action was to wait another couple of days before sending out a search party, not wanting to raise alarm over a boat being delayed by a single day. Hiccup hadn’t agreed with his father and made his own plans to search for them the next day. He was both surprise and proud of Astrid and Snotlout when he found them outside his door in the morning. Their saddlebags already packed and ready to go, just as he had done for Toothless’s the night before.

Tuffnut and Ruffnut had been there too, but they weren’t coming with. They planned – and to say Hiccup was surprised they had a _plan_ would be an understatement – was to stay behind and keep Stoick too busy to notice the trio’s absences. Hiccup wasn’t sure if he should be thankful for their help or worried for his father that the twins were actually attempting to cause problems. Still, he appreciated their help and with Astrid and Snotlout by his side, he flew north as the first light of day reached Berk’s soil.

Now the sun was halfway to the zenith and they were still no closer to finding the missing longboat. No one wanted to voice the very real possible there was no longer a boat to find. It was not what any of the trio were willing to consider. Nonetheless, the notion stayed firmly fixed in the back of their minds and was getting stronger with each passing hour.

“We're getting pretty far north,” Astrid was the first to break the heavy silence. The artic weather getting to her as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms to keep warm. They really hadn’t prepared all that well for the colder climate, assuming they’d find the boat before noon, which hadn’t been the case.

Hiccup glance back briefly to make sure she was okay, before turning his eyes forward. “They are already two days overdue,” the Head of the Academy shouted over the wind. “We need to keep searching.”

“You don't really think they're up here, do you?” the shieldmaiden glanced below, blue eyes searched the rolling waves for any signs of debris from a shipwreck. There was none, thankfully, but neither was there a longboat.

“You can't take the cold, huh, Astrid?” Snotlout teased, his eyes never leaving the waters below as chunks of ice started to appear.

“No, I just don't have a heated seat like you do,” Astrid shot back with a slight quirk of her lips, trying to keep from shivering. Although, the thick bearskin cloak he was wearing probably had something to do with it too. She would have to ask the Druid if he could make her a cloak too.

“That's right. You don't,” the brunet Viking chuckled, snapping his fingers. Hookfang let out a roar, his belly catching on fire and the flames licking at his rider but never burning him. “Ah, toasty.”

Hiccup chose to ignore the other two’s bantering and focused on the waters. Squinting, he thought he saw something next to a large iceberg floating off to the right. He would have written it off, but the wind changed directions allowing the auburn haired Viking to hear what he thought were shouts in the distant. That had him veering towards the right. A bit closer and he could see two longboats shored on an icy plateau of the iceberg. One of the longboats was unmarked and unidentifiable at first glance while the other boat had a coiled Monstrous Nightmare on its sail: the Hairy Hooligan tribal crest.

“Looks like they're in trouble,” the Head of the Academy shouted for the Dragon Riders’ to hear, pointing at the longboats below before leaning down closer to Toothless’s body. “Come on, Bud.”

“Berserkers, commandeer this vessel for Dagur the Deranged,” shouted one of the Vikings decked out in chainmail and furs on the unmarked longboat as two of his men lowered a makeshift bridge between the two boats. One of the grunts took no caution as he tried to use the plank to board the Hairy Hooligan Tribe’s longboat, but didn’t make it more than halfway across when he was knocked into the waters by Mulch with what appeared to be an eel. However, as the Berserker grunt went overboard with a splash half a dozen or so more Vikings were right behind him and they had little trouble rushing the pudgy man.

Bucket effortlessly took care of two of them, using the Berserkers forward momentum against them and hefting them up in one hand each and assisting them overboard. A third one hit Bucket in his bucket with a mace yet when that did nothing but have the tall muscular man turn to look at him with a mincing glare, the enemy Viking had enough self-preservation to throw himself overboard.

When Bucket was done with three more Berserkers, he turned to Mulch’s aid who really didn’t need the help. The shorter man was currently jumping up and down on one of the Berserkers who was twice his size, knocking the air out of him with each jump. Still, Bucket provided assistance by sitting on the dazed Viking, cutting off his air supply and rendering him unconscious within seconds.

Jackson wasn’t sitting by idly either, working to keep a man from overpowering him. However, unlike Mulch, he was not having an easy time of things. The brunet was working on limited space and the rocking of the boat wasn’t doing him any favors. Not to mention, the Berserker he was fighting was easily four times his size. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t holding his own, Jackson was keeping the man at bay with his staff and quick feet, but it was a near thing.

Upon seeing the Druid’s predicament, Bucket stood up only to raise his hands in surrounded when the rest of the Berserkers had crossbows leveled at them ready to fire.

“Surrender or-” the commander of the longboat yelled across the space between the two boats. He cut himself off when he dropped to the deck, ducking along with the rest of his men to avoid the poisonous tail spikes belonging to a Deadly Nadder which went sail over their heads.

“Nice shooting, Astrid,” Hiccup praised the shieldmaiden, turning his attention to his cousin. “Snotlout, light 'em up.”

The Monstrous Nightmare rider didn’t need to be told twice and dove down. Hookfang squeezed himself between the two longboats and released a large fireball, incinerating the bridge connecting the two.

“Whoo-hoo-hoo!” Snotluot cheered as the Monstrous Nightmare rocket back up into the sky.

“Okay, Bud,” the auburn haired Dragon Rider rubbed the Night Fury’s neck. “It's our turn.”

Growling in pure rage, Toothless fire a larger than needed plasma blast at the water to the side of the Berserkers’ boat. One of his wings jarring the longboat off the iceberg as they speed by and causing a few of the men to fall overboard, which Hiccup hadn’t planned on but knew it wasn’t a mistake on the Night Fury’s part.

“Retreat! Retreat!” the commander shouted scrambling to his feet only to have them knocked back out from underneath him as the wave generated by the plasma blast rocked the boat yet again. The Berserkers in the water were swallowed up by the wave as they attempted to pull themselves back up while the men onboard scurried to shove off. In their haste to retreat, the enemy Vikings left one of their own behind.

The Berserker struggling with Jackson became desperate upon seeing his crew leaving and lunged. Grabbing hold of an unprepared brunet, the Viking pulled the weaker body into him with one arm while holding a sword to Jackson’s throat with his other arm. He wasn’t given the opportunity to make any demands of the two advancing Vikings for the Druid didn’t miss a beat and threw his head back into the man’s nose.

The resounding crack could be heard clearly as the Berserker stumbled backwards, tripping and falling over the side; taking the boy still in his arms with him. A moment later, the bloodied nose Viking came up. He took one look at the dragons flying overhead and Bucket standing closest to the edge of the boat and fled, swimming as fast as he could after the retreating longboat. His only hope of salvation.

The sight might have been rewarding, if not for Mulch’s frantic cries as he leaned over the edge of the longboat, searching the murky waters for life. “Jackson! Jackson!”

Jackson did not resurface.

“Oh no, Mulch. He’s not coming back up,” Bucket hollered, halfway climbing over the side to jump in when a black form crashed into the water without slowing down. The resulting splash soaked the two older Vikings, but neither cared. Their eyes glued on the surface of the water searching for any sign. Another splash from behind them had them about-face to witness Toothless landing on the deck with Jackson’s ever present staff in his mouth. On his back, Hiccup clung to the shivering mass belonging to the Druid.

With Bucket’s help, Hiccup managed to manhandle Jackson off of the Night Fury’s back and leaned him up against the side of the boat. Yet, as amber eyes stared forward unseeing, the Dragon Rider felt a cold chill – which had nothing to do with his current wet clothing – wash over him. Even when Toothless dropped the gnarled piece of wood with the clear jewel in his lap, the brunet didn’t react which really concerned him.

“Jackson?” Hiccup whispered softly, unnerved when amber eyes refused to even blink. Crooning softly, Toothless nudged the staff in the brunet’s lap which received the same response as his rider’s attempt had, none. There was no reaction from Jackson save for his thick heaving breaths and uncontrollable shaking.

“He’s going into shock,” Astrid said pushing her way passed Mulch and Bucket to kneel in front of the Druid. She grabbed one of his wrists feeling for a pulse. A grimace flashed across her face when she found his pulse weak there in spite of his racing heart. A look into those ethereal eyes revealed full orbs of lackluster amber, pupils dilated with a vacant gaze. “We need to keep him warm. Get him out of those clothing and into something dry.”

“Right,” the auburn haired Dragon Rider gulped, nodded his head regardless.

However, when no one made a move to follow through, Hiccup found himself reaching out with shaking fingers. He fumbled to untie the cloak’s fastenings and struggled to pull of the water logged cloak from around Jackson’s shoulders. The garment was tossed to the side and he reached forward again, grabbing ahold of the soaked through white shirt and began to pull. He halted when a pale hand weakly wrapped around his wrist. Vivid green eyes snapped up to met tortured amber, before Jackson slowly shook his head.

“N-n-no, ju-jus-st c-c-co-ol-ld,” the Druid stammered out as his hand falling from the Viking’s wrist and landing on his staff, clinging to it tightly.

“Here,” Snotlout stepped forward, pulling his bearskin cloak off his shoulders and held it out. Hiccup nodded his thanks and took the offered article of clothing, steadily wrapping it around Jackson’s shoulders. When he pulled back, Toothless moved forward, cuddling up to the shivering mass and letting out a feeble warble of comfort.

“Th-ha-nk y-ou,” the brunet used his free hand to pull the fur closer around his body and leaned into Night Fury’s side, soaking up as much heat as he could.

“What happened here?” Hiccup demanded, looking over to the older Vikings for answers as he pulled off his own water logged vest.

Both shared a sheepish look, before the short of the two started talking while Bucket offered him a blanket, which the auburn haired teen gratefully took and wrapped around his shoulders, all the while listening to Mulch. “Well, we thought the Berserkers had hit an iceberg, and so we came into help… They attacked us, because we saw… It.”

“It?” the trio spoke in unison.

“Oh, can I show them Mulch? Can I, can I?” Bucket requested glancing behind him at the iceberg jutting out of the ocean.

The pudgy Viking shook his head negatively. “No Bucket I’ll show them, you stay with Jackson, see if you can find any more blankets to cover him up.”

“Alright Mulch,” the taller man slowly nodded his head as Mulch waved the Dragon Riders to follow him. Snotlout stayed where he stood. A questioning glance from his cousin had the burly Viking gesturing with his head for them to go. Hiccup let a smile grace his face and gave a signal nod, following Astrid and Mulch to see what had caused such chaos, knowing Jackson was left in good hands.

They headed a little way into the iceberg, the ice relatively clear making it easy to see through the tunnels Mulch was leading them through. The older man led them to a half excavated part column of ice surrounded by axes, picks, and other tools sewn about at the base. Here the ice wasn’t nearly as clear as the rest of the iceberg and Hiccup found himself slipping forward to get a better look.

“That looks like a… dragon,” Hiccup narrowed his eyes at the distorted image while shuffling the blanket higher up on his shoulders. He couldn’t make out exactly what species of dragon was inside the ice neither could he figure out why the Berserkers wanted the frozen dragon, but for whatever reason it couldn’t be good.

“Why would Berserkers be trying to dig it out?” Astrid voice the question currently running through the auburn haired teenager’s mind.

“No idea. But I'm going to find out,” Hiccup shook his head and took a few steps back away from the ice encased dragon with a determined look in his eyes.

Upon noticing his expression, Mulch groaned. “Oh, great. Now we have to dig it out.”

“Actually, I have a much better idea,” the Head of the Academy said eyeing the Deadly Nadder who hadn’t been about to let her rider go off on her own in an unknown location. On the other hand, it could have had something to do with Toothless growling at Stormfly which got her trailing after the group of Vikings while he stayed behind to assist in warming up Jackson.

With the Deadly Nadder’s magnesium fires, it didn’t take long to cut free a block of ice with the dragon safely in the middle. A little rope salvaged from the supplies left behind by the Berserkers, some ingenuity on Hiccup’s part, and one Deadly Nadder was pulling the frozen dragon across the ice with ease. However, it took Toothless and Hookfang to get the block of ice airborne and onto the deck of the longboat, which was then secured to the deck before shoving off.

On any other day, the Dragon Riders would have called it a day and flown back to Berk, reassured Mulch and Bucker where safely heading back to Berk. Jackson’s silent behavior had all of them staying behind.

* * *

“I’m fine,” Jackson stated firmly and it would have been a little more convincing if he wasn’t shaking so badly that Hiccup could see it from across the warm cabin of the longboat. Rolling his eyes, the Dragon Rider shoved a bowl of soup Bucket had delivered in to trembling hands and sat down beside the brunet.

Hiccup had been relieved when both of their clothing had dried out, courtesy of curling up with Toothless and Hookfang. Yet, the others had been concerned with the possibility of them get sick from the impromptu dunk in the ocean and had forced the two into the storage cabin and out of the cold to lessen the chance of either them coming down with something.

“You could have drowned. Why didn’t you tell us you couldn’t swim?” the Head of the Academy voiced the question which had been on everyone’s minds.

“I can swim. I…” Jackson corrected. However, with him refusing to look at the Viking and amber eyes became distant staring unseeing into his soup, Hiccup knew there was more to it. Without conscious thought, the Dragon Rider found himself shifting closer to Jackson, waiting for him to spill. He wasn’t disappointed. “Back home, there’s this pond. Jamie likes to call it my pond since he and Sophie know part of the story but it really doesn’t have a name, it’s always just been there.

“I used to swim in that pond, taught my sister and a few of the younger kids how to swim there. It was a good place to cool off during the summer. But in the winters? The winters were best. The pond would freeze over and it was perfect for ice skating. Every spare moment I had, I would go skate on the ice or play in the grove next to the pond.

“My ice stakes weren’t the best, far from it, but I made do. However, my sister’s? They were falling apart and a size too small. I saved up for months, doing extra jobs to earn a few coins here and there until I could afford a brand new pair of stakes for her birthday. She was so excited when I gave them to her and begged our mom nonstop to go and try them out. Mom finally relented when I promised to go with her and keep her safe.

“I should have known better,” Jackson let out a bitter laugh, running his free hand through his hair. The sound was jarring and set a shiver down Hiccup’s spine. It was something he hoped he’d never hear again coming from the usually bright, happy Druid. “Her birthday was near the end of winter and there hadn’t been any hard freezes for some time. I never had the time to check the ice’s strength before she had her stakes on and was on the ice. I thought it was fine and was taking off my shoes when I heard it. The ice cracking…

“My heart stopped when I heard her scream because my sweet baby sister was standing in the middle of the pond, surrounded by fracturing ice ready to give way. She was so scared and I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I had to do something. I was an idiot though, and despite commonsense saying otherwise, I crept onto the ice myself in an attempt to save her. My weight was too much for the ice and it cracked further.

“Still, I had to try which was when I found this,” the brunet held up his staff and Hiccup couldn’t keep the whimper at bay. His mind racing to the inevitable conclusion of Jackson’s tale and he didn’t like the conclusion one iota. “I thought the staff could help, it could extend my reach, but it wasn’t enough, I needed to be closer. So, I played hopscotch with her like we did every day and used the crook to pull her towards me when she was within reach. It had worked, my sister was off the crack and I felt like nothing could go wrong.

“And Hiccup,” amber eyes finally looked up from the bowl resting in his lap to stare straight into vivid green eyes with such heartache that Hiccup was frozen in place, “when you thinking nothing can go wrong? That’s usually when everything goes wrong and the ice gave way. It was the scariest moment of my life. The waters were colder than anything I’d ever felt. I couldn’t move my limbs. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t _breathe_ ,” Jackson chocked out, violently shivering at the mere memory.

“Máni pulled me up.”

Hiccup dared not move, his mind screeching to a halt and refusing to restart. There was no way the Druid was implying what he thought he was implying. There was no way _Máni_ had saved _Jackson_.

Then again, it made sense. Things about the Druid which didn’t seem to fit at all started to fall into place. It explained why Jackson never let the staff out of sight and was always within arm’s reach. Why he spent so much of his time with the children of the tribe and why he didn’t seem to want to let others close to his heart. All of which stemmed from his failure to save his sister coupled with the king of his lands murdering his parents. It was a wonder the Druid was as happy as he was most days.

That was not what caused Hiccup’s stomach to twist into knots though. What had the chief’s son on edges was the notion the moon deity had set his sights on _Jackson_. Máni had a reputation for _taking_ _children_. The most notable of which were Viðfinnr’s children, Hjúki and Bil, both of whom now followed the moon through the heavens for all those to see.

Did that mean Máni wanted to take Jackson away too?

“Why did he save you?” Hiccup heard himself asking, hoping his voice wasn’t quivering from the fear he felt for the Druid.

“He had- _has_ a plan for me and one day he will come to collect,” Jackson answered, eyes looking down and away from the Viking as he shifted his weight. Quickly, the brunet redirected the conversation. “That was first time since I’ve been completely submerged in water since Máni pulled me up. I kinda… froze.”

The Dragon Rider wanted to know more about what had happened after Máni had pulled Jackson up. He needed to know if the moon deity had said anything else to the brunet. Did he give Jackson a deadline before he’d come to take the Druid away or would Hiccup wake up one day to find Máni had spirited him away sometime in the night. However, he couldn’t find it in himself to asked Jackson any of his questions when the younger teen appeared as vulnerable as he did in that moment.

“I knew that couldn’t have been easy telling me,” Hiccup attempted a smile as he placed what he hoped would be a comforting hand on the Druid’s shoulder. Jackson stiffened at the touch, but didn’t shrug the hand off. “We’ll just have to keep that in mind next time we have to go swimming, won’t we?”

Amber eyes peaked up through dark lashes, hand tightening on his staff causing the crystal to bumped up against his knuckles. “You’re the first person I’ve told the whole story to.”

The whispered confession had the Viking teenager gulping down the lump in his throat. Jackson had just bared a large portion of his soul to him and Hiccup had the feeling their budding friendship’s future depended on his next actions. Even worse, he had no idea how to respond despite his every instinct shouting at him too respond immediately.

“I… thanks for telling me,” which sounded lame to his own ears, but by some miracle, Hiccup got the feeling he said exactly the right thing. Judging from the way the Druid finally relaxed and finally beginning to eat the moderately warm stew, the Dragon Rider was positive he had done something right.

They sat in silence for some time. Each deep within their own thoughts as they mechanically ate the stew until their spoons scrapped against the empty wooden bowls. The silences continued for a stretch more, but the longer they sat with not a word passing between the two, the more Jackson began to fidget until finally, the Druid broke.

“So how’s Sharpshot?”

“He’s good,” Hiccup answered after a moment of hesitation and when he saw that Jackson didn’t look like he was about to breakdown anytime soon, he continued on like the past half an hour hadn’t happened, “me and Fishlegs have been working on airmail and Snotlout has even started to help work with him too. Soon we won’t have to send him just between the Dragon Riders but to anyone on or off Berk. Have to say though; it would be nice to have a few more Terrors than just Sharpshot to train. What ever happened to the other Terrible Terrors?”

The Head of the Academy hadn’t expected an answer and couldn’t stop his eyebrows from raising into his hairline when Jackson gave one. “Astrid is trying to desensitize Finn to dragons using Sneaky. She thought he would be a good first step to getting Finn accustom to having numerous other dragons around. Gobber’s helping too with keeping Grump around when the two are together, but Finn doesn’t have a problem with him since he likes Grump.

“I’m not really sure what happened to Iggy – thought I’ve seen him flying around with Sharpshot and the other Terrible Terrors from time to time – but the twins are actually still training Head and Butt. Though, they were teaching them to drop objects on unsuspecting people’s heads last I heard. As for Pain, I kinda borrowed him without asking Snotlout. He’s been good company on the trip and I’ve been teaching him to locate large schools of fish.

“He’s getting really good too and I sent him out just before we were attacked by the Berserkers,” Jackson’s voice became small and fearful as fear for the purple Terrible Terror crossed the brunet’s face. Amber eyes glanced at the door to the cabin before looking straight into vivid green. “Do you think he’s alright? He should have been back by now…”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Hiccup assured the other teenager with confidence, because he was sure that any dragon of Snotlout’s could survive out of sheer willpower alone. They had to in order to put up with his cousin.

“If you’re sure,” the Druid conceded halfheartedly, looking over at the door once more. “Mmm, do you think Snotlout will mind I took Pain without asking?”

Vivid green eyes were drawn to Jackson’s bottom lip as the younger teen bit it, drawing a bit more color to his pale complexion. He almost missing the brunet’s question and only snapped out of his daze when he heard his cousin’s name. Hiccup coughed to cover his momentary lapse and give him enough time to come up with an answer.

Usually, Snotlout would be furious at anyone who dared to touch what was his. For some reason though, he got along with Jackson really well and the rules which applied to the Vikings didn’t seem to apply to the Druid. So the auburn haired Dragon Rider couldn’t say one way or another with certainty. However, with amber eyes shining in his direction, waiting for an answer, he couldn’t not say anything either. Nor could he stop the rush of heat to his cheeks.

“Uh, I think he’ll be fine with it. It was for a good cause after all, right?” Hiccup spoke fast, praying he wasn’t lying to Jackson.

“Yeah, he was really useful,” the brunet brightened, a small smile – the first since he’d been pulled into the icy waters – twitched to life. “The fish finding thing I was telling you about came in real handy and between Pain, Mulch, and Bucket they were able to get the other tribes a small store of food on top of what your father sent them.”

Hiccup couldn’t help but smile himself as the younger teenager prattled on about how the other Viking tribes were in awe of Pain and his fish finding abilities. Jackson really was too kind. He might have a hard past and a guarded hearted but he was always looking out for others and their best interests. Sadly, no one seemed to be looking out for Jackson’s best interests, even Jackson himself.

“So, what’s happened with you will I’ve been away?”

The Head of the Academy pulled a face at the mere thought of the past two weeks which only made the brunet even more curious. So, he told Jackson the reason why the Academy members never showed up to see the convoy off and how they managed to defeat the Screaming Death. Then the Druid somehow weaseled another tale out of him about the Academy members’ efforts to cleaning up the dragon traps around the island like the one he had rescued Snotlout and Astrid from so many months ago. Jackson had even laughed when he heard Tuffnut had gotten himself trapped in a similar snare but had quickly quieted down at the mention of the forest fire which destroyed part of the northeastern forest.

The Druid mourned the loss opportunity to meet Torch, the Typhoomerang Hiccup had helped out as a baby and had in turned helped save Tuffnut and the village from the forest fire. Then again, Jackson would have mourned any opportunity lost to meet any species of dragons. He liked all dragons as long as they didn’t attack him and the auburn haired Viking knew the brunet would have especially liked to meet Torch with how large the Typhoomerang was.

They continued to talk the night away, Jackson telling him about what had gone on with the convoy, and the methods he had used to train Pain to locate schools of fish. Before either of them knew it, dawn was upon them and Berk’s shores were just ahead.

The cry of pain from Snotlout informed them of Pain safe return as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, there is a hint of Hiccup's affection for Jack showing through. Small, but there. 
> 
> Also, I feel I am being mean seeing all the horrible assumptions Hiccup and the rest of the Vikings are coming to about Jackson that simply aren't true. However, it is much more plausible to them than the alternative of Jack being a time traveling Guardian of Fun. So, before people ask, no Jack's sister didn't die but that's how Hiccup has interpreted what happened.


	27. A Skrilling Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back on schedule (barely) only to forfeit my schedule for next week. Yeah, so, I might not post on Friday next week and it'll most likely be on either Saturday or Sunday. If not...uh, sorry? And it's probably mean to say this, but I had a lot of fun writing the next chapter, so I can't wait to post it despite knowing I will be late. Again, sorry.

Docking at Berk’s shores, Jack assisted Hiccup in harnessing the block of ice to the dragons for them to fly the frozen dragon over to the Academy for further inspection. He planned on following the Dragon Riders on foot, not wanting to be a burn to Toothless by carrying an additional passenger despite the auburn haired Viking assuring him the Night Fury could handle his added weight along with hauling the block of ice without any problems. The ex-spirit had still declined, no wanting to put any strain on the dragon and it gave him the chance to stretch his legs after having spent a few days at sea.

His plans changed when Mulch and Bucket dragged him along to the Great Hall with them in order to inform the chief of what had transpired. Jack make an effort to slip away, but the two Viking kept him in the middle, preventing an escape. Thus he was resigned in being escorted to the Great Hall. He wasn’t, however, prepared for all conversation stopped and all eyes turned towards him when he slipped through the doors.

Jack froze on instinct and when the large Vikings continued to stare without a word spoken, he took a step back only to bump into Bucket. Large hands placed themselves on his shoulders – producing a violently flinch from the eternal teenager – and guided him forward. None of the multitude of eyes leaving him alone and he had never in his life wished to be invisible up until now.   There were too many adults, not one child or faerie or even a dragon anywhere in sight for him to feel grounded. It didn’t help that almost everyone towered over him and they closed in behind him as the trio made their way towards the back of the hall.

There, sitting at the head of the largest, was Stoick standing with Spitelout conversing with the chief on his right and Gobber leafing through various scraps of paper on his left. A bunch of other people stood on the opposing side of the table waiting for their chance to speak with the chief but they all moved out of the way to allow the trio to head straight to the front of the line. One Viking, not anyone Jack knew – although, he might have known her, she looked vaguely familiar but with his breathing came out in short shallow breaths and the world buzzing around him, he didn’t recognize her – tapped Stoick on the shoulder. The giant of a man turned around, his gaze following the woman’s finger towards him.

A great big smile spread across the chief’s face when he caught sight of the trio accompanied by a booming laugh. Yet it was his fist pounding the table which had Jack jumping, causing one of Bucket’s large hands to settle back down on his shoulder comforting. The touch was familiar and kept him somewhat grounded, but all he really wanted to do was get out of there.

“Ha! I told Hiccup we only needed to wait,” Stoick boasted, walking around the table to deliver a slap to Mulch’s back. “He was worried something had happened to ya.”

“Ahh chief? Yer boy and some of those Dragon Riders of his flew out to rescue us,” the shorter hesitantly spoke up while gesturing to Bucket and Jack with his hook.

The redhead’s jolliness vanished within an instant, leaving in its place a hard look as green eyes washed over the two older Vikings first, searching for injuries before landing on the small brunet. Jack felt as if the cold icy water was once more seeping into his body, freezing him in place. He would have gulped if he could, but there didn’t seem to be enough salvia in his mouth. Instead, amber eyes shifted to the ground as he shrank into himself, making him appear as small as possible.

“What happened?” Stoick demanded, Jack completely missing the way green eyes become hard as stones at his reaction.

The brunet did glance up in time to see those green orbs bounce back and forth between Mulch and Bucket, looking for answers. However, those green eyes – similar to Hiccup’s but different – were perceptive and caught the glimpse of amber, softening at the small boy standing in the midst of Vikings. Not that it reassured the Guardian of Fun one bit; Stoick the Vast was a daunting man and North, for all his grandstanding, had nothing on him.

“There was a giant storm which was bring in icebergs down from the north-,” the stubby man began only to have Bucket interrupt.

“It was bizarre. The storm never hit us, it seemed to move around us as if it was given’ us safe passage-,” this time it was Mulch cutting of the taller Viking with a slap to the blond man’s side.

“Don’t be draft, Bucket, we were just lucky.”

If Jack wasn’t so tense at the moment, he would have been grinning from ear to ear. Bucket was right. The storm had moved around them allowing them safe passage thanks to a little aid from the winds at his behalf.

“As I was sayin’, we were slowed down due to the ice which was when we saw another longboat on top of an iceberg. We thought they were in trouble and went to offer our help,” Mulch shuttered at the memory. “No one was on the boat when we pulled up, so Bucket and I went shore to see if they had sought shelter further in the iceberg. We found them trying to excavate some kind of dragon from the ice.”

“That’s when they attacked us,” the blond Viking said, his voice low and shaky. However, Jack knew better, he had seen the man take on multiple Berserkers without breaking a sweat and he hadn’t hesitated then. He couldn’t understand why Bucket was afraid of them now, when they were long gone. Then again the brunet shouldn’t be casting stones in glasshouses; he could take on the King of Nightmares without flinching, but give him a room full of moral men and he froze.

“Who attack?” Spitelout slammed both his of hands on the table, causing Jack to jump and take a step further away from the angry Viking and into the Bucket’s personal space.

Mulch shuttered once again. “Berserkers.”

“I can’t believe this!” the chief’s right hand man thundered, causing the whole room to erupt into roars and loud noises as weapons were drawn and fists pounded on tables.

The ex-spirit’s earlier uncomforted state was nothing compared to now as the crowd surged forward, closed in around him, and demanding answers. He tried to escape and squeeze his way between the various Vikings surrounding him, but he found himself trapped. The uneasiness inside him grew and fought for released. The ringing in his ears became thunder and his skin felt clammy and warm at the same time. Jack thought he was going to explode, that something inside of him was going to snap at any moment, which was when Stoick commanded the crowds’ attention.

“All right. Calm down,” the mount of a man pacified the masses with a level voice and a simple wave of his hand which had the members of Hairy Hooligan Tribe quieting instantly to hear their chief. The silence was enough to delay the growing flood of emotion which was racing through Jack, searching for a way out and only barely being held at bay by the eternal teenager.

“This is an act of war,” Mulch insisted and the brunet felt the tension inside of him rise even before the people started to shout once more.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions about what this attack means,” Stoick insisted green eyes glaring at the shorter man that was winding the crowd up for a second time.

“I don't know, Stoick. Seems pretty cut and dried to me. I mean, if you think about it, an attack is an attack. Am I right, people?” Gobber carelessly spoke up, waving his hook around and gained all the other Vikings’ attention, doing even more damage in riling the crowd up to the verge of a riot. Jack was one of those on the verge, but not of a riot, more of let his emotions lashing out.

Stoick just gave the blacksmith the evil eye, sarcasm dripping from every word as he spoke. “And thank you, Gobber.”

“Always here to help,” Gobber cheerfully replied as he took a sip of his mead.

The Guardian of Fun was far from cheerful though. He didn’t feel right in the least and wanted to get out of there. To run to run through the forest with the Wyldfae or to take Hiccup up on his offer to go for a ride with him and Toothless; he needed to get out of there. To calm down and center his warring emotions or else something – and he didn’t know what that _something_ was, but he knew he was on the verge of it – was going to happen.

A nudge at his side jolted the Druid out of his distressed and a small spark of static lite up his fingertips when he brushed up against the dragon at his side. Giant acid green eyes peered back at him curiously and, like magic, Jack felt all his stress disappearing, leaving him feeling drained. He was thankful for the Night Fury’s presence and leaned against the dragon who easily supported his weight.

“I think I know why Dagur's men attacked them,” Hiccup spoke to his father as he and Astrid made their way through the crowd.

“Go on, son,” Stoick motioning towards the teenager, giving him the floor. No one dared to interrupt the Hero of Berk when it came to the affairs of dragons.

“We got a better look at the dragon Bucket and Mulch found in the ice,” the Head of the Dragon Academy began, his eyes scanning the crowd and pausing for a brief second on Jack before continuing on.

“We found a dragon? Oh, can we keep it? I've always wanted my own dragon, Mulch,” Bucket blabbered on excitedly, tugging at his friend’s clothing.

“Uh… it's a Skrill,” Hiccup deadpanned and the whole crowd became deathly silent. The sudden lack of outburst – which appeared to be all the Vikings were capable of – had Jack wondering what about the frozen dragon was so dangerous before deciding he was too tired to care.

Spitelout dropped in the chair behind him. “That cannot be good.”

“Oh. I don't want one of those,” the tall bucket wearing blond retracted his statement and the brunet was sure he could hear fear – real fear – in the usually happy-go-lucky Viking. Mulch elbowed the taller man in the side to keep from drawing the other Vikings’ attention. “Ow!”

“Are you sure about this, son?” Stoick asked over the ensuing fight between Bucket and Mulch.

“Oh, we are sure!” Fishlegs bellowed out giddy, shoving his way through the crowd and throwing his arms around Astrid and Hiccup. _The Book of Dragons_ thumping loudly against the shieldmaiden’s arm which earned him a glare form the Deadly Nadder rider. Not that the heavyset Dragon Rider noticed, his obnoxious laughter and howls covering up the noise. “Whoo! Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah, Fishlegs.”

And once more, Jack was faced with the contradicting nature of Fishlegs. For all intents and purposes, the boy appeared to have been drinking way too much mead. Astrid did not appear to appreciate the physical attention and elbowed the Gronckle rider in the side – hard – to get him to remove the arm from around her shoulders. He did remove the arm, but it wasn’t because of the jab, but because he was laughing so hard that he had curled in on himself, clutching the leather bound book close to his chest.

Fishlegs abruptly stopped laughing when he looked up to see Stoick, Spitelout, and Gobber all giving him a stern look. Jack briefly wondered which one of them was more menacing to the blond Viking or if it was the combination of the three looks that had Fishlegs frozen. In his personal opinion, Stoick had the most menacing glare followed by Spitelout – who had a constipated look to his glare – with Gobber coming in dead last since his was more a disapproving look than anything else.

Chuckling nervously, Fishlegs hid his face half way behind _The Book of Dragons_. “Sorry, chief, that… uh, happens sometimes when we discover a new dragon. I… uh, I get a little… “

“Look, it's right here,” Hiccup put the heavyset Viking out of his misery and wrenched the book out of his hands. The auburn haired teenager quickly flipped to the appropriate page and turned it to face his father and the two Vikings at his side. As he turned it, Jack caught a glimpse of the charcoal drawing. It could have been the dragon in the giant ice cube for all the ex-spirit knew, but then again, he really couldn’t tell with the distortion from the ice. “That is definitely a Skrill.”

“And the Skrill is the symbol of Dagur the Deranged,” Astrid spit out, causing the whole crowd to roar back to life. The Guardian once more unintentional startled and was pushed out of the way as the other Vikings surged passed him to see the book. A growl from Toothless had them taking a step back and giving him more space, which the Druid greatly appreciated.

With the Night Fury’s menacing demeanor, he was able to clear a path for Jack to the front of Great Hall. Legs, with what little life they had left in them, would have given out if not for Toothless supporting him and his staff. Once seated on the ground with his back firmly pressed up against the wall, he pulled his legs to his chest – staff safely tucked between them and his body – and wrapped his arms around his knees. Toothless sat at his side and together they waited out the yelling and the screaming for actions.

Stoick finally had enough and with a meaningful look at his second-in-command, Spitelout ushered them all out; leaving only the Dragon Riders, the chief, Gobber, and himself behind in the large open room. However, Jack thought his continue presence in the hall might have been a mistake on Spitelout’s part, missing him half hidden in the shadows on the floor. The blacksmith, on the other hand, sent a slight glance in his direction letting the brunet know he knew he was still there. Once Gobber finished closing the Great Hall’s massive doors before turning towards the group with a troubled expression on his face.

“Legend has it, the lightning comes from the Skrill's mouth and thunder from its…” the blacksmith spoke shaking his fist. However, a warning look from the chief kept him from completing his sentence, his shoulders slumping before he shrugged. “Well, you know.”

“Remind me never to get behind one,” Astrid popped off and Jack had to hide a grin. It appeared he was rubbing off on her. A month ago and she would have never made such a crass comment like that.

“That's actually inaccurate,” Fishlegs lectured, taking the book back from the auburn haired teenager and holding it protectively to his chest. “According to _The Book of Dragons_ , the Skrill drew lightning from the clouds and then redirected it.”

“It could use that lightning to hit several targets at once, which is why it was such a feared dragon,” Hiccup continued for the heavyset Viking when he started getting giddy again.

“It could also store the lightning in its body and use it later,” the Gronckle rider jumped right back in.

“Are we sure that Skrills’ don’t produce lightning on their own?” Jack found himself asking causing the group to turn and look down at where he was sitting.

“Yeah, I’m sure, _The Book of Dragons_ -,” Fishlegs pointed to the very book he was referencing.

“Could be wrong,” Jack interjected, stretching out his legs while ignoring the gasp of blasphemy coming from the highly offending young blond. Nonetheless, with the other Vikings’ attention on him, the brunet felt obligate to kept speaking, knowing they were paying attention to them. “Dragons create their own fire and from what you said, this dragon doesn’t have its own flame but draws on lightning. Maybe Skrills don’t just draw on lightning, but their flame is _lightning_.”

“The lad has a point Stoick. We really don’t know what this dragon is capable of,” Gobber glanced over at his friend, hook scratching his chin.

“I've heard enough,” the chief put a stop to any more squabbling before it could get started. If he hadn’t, Fishlegs would have verbally attacked the Druid for outright stating his precious might have been wrong. For whatever reason, the Gronckle rider took what _The Book of Dragons_ said as gospel and wasn’t opened to alternatives. The Guardian just hoped that wouldn’t get him killed in the future. “We need to get rid of that Skrill. It's just the excuse Dagur needs to go to war.”

“You all know I love a good fight as much as the next person, but why not just give it to them? It's just a frozen dragon carcass after all,” the blacksmith suggested and if Jack didn’t know more about magical creatures thanks to his mother and spending over three hundred years as a spirit, he would have agreed with the man. Gifting the Skrill to Dagur as a peace offering was a logical choice if one didn’t know some Creatures of Magic could hibernate for thousands of years – even incased in ice – and wake up at any moment despite appearing dead.

“Actually, because of their internal body temperature, Skrills can stay safely frozen for decades,” Fishlegs voiced the ex-spirit’s own assumptions, the heavyset Viking’s nervousness bleeding through his body as he gave a halfhearted chuckle.

Jack could see it took the chief’s entire will power to barely restraining him. If he had to hazard a guess, the brunet would assume if Stoick was alone – or wasn’t the chief – he would have had his face in one of his large hands, shaking his head at the series of unfortunate events. “Is there anything else I should know about this Skrill? Like where it’s located?”

“We left it at the Academy-,” Astrid started strong, waving her hand towards the arena’s general direction before her voice trailed off. All of them could see her winced as the blood drained from her face and her voice becoming weak and troubled, "-with the others guarding it.”

The whole group was slight while the Dragon Riders shared a worrying look.

“So let me be clear,” Stoick spoke up, looking at each of the Academy members in turn. “This dragon may still be alive, and you left Ruffnut, Tuffnut, and Snotlout to guard it?”

“Okay, that sounds much worse when you say it,” Hiccup grimaced vivid green eyes darting towards the Great Hall’s doors as if they were going to blow off their hinges at any moment. “But it's frozen solid in a block of ice. How much damage could it possibly do?”

Jack didn’t have the self-control the chief had displayed only moments before. He readily let his face slam into his hand and moaned. If there was one constant in the world, no matter the time frame, it was Murphy’s Law: anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. The immortal teenager had seen it enough times to know the law held true and being exposed to Bunny unnatural need to hope – he was the Guardian of Hope after all – for the best but prepare for the worst had further instilled the knowledge into his mind.

He, unlike the others, was not the least bit surprise when the ground trembled beneath them a moment later as an explosion rocked the Great Hall.   Gobber wasted no time in throwing open the doors open, catching sight of the dissipating cloud of flames originating from the Dragon Training Academy. Distant shrieks reached their ears and Jack could see from his new position behind Hiccup the villagers rushing out of their huts to find the source of the commotion.

Toothless gave a concerned warble and the ex-spirit found his legs being pushed out from underneath him. From one moment to the next, he went from standing up to suddenly being situation on the Night Fury’s back. Hiccup was more prepared and mounted the dragon with no problem, even as Toothless took to the air and flew out the Great Hall’s opened doors.

Glancing behind him, Jack saw the Meatlug and Stormfly flying towards the Great Hall, already anticipating their riders’ needs whereas the chief and blacksmith had to make dragon calls to summon their mounts. Both Astrid and Fishlegs head out before either of the older two Vikings could mount their dragons. Gobber being the last to take off a bit unstable on Grump since he rarely rode the Boulder-class dragon and wasn’t accustom to regular flying.

Turning back around, amber eyes focused on the Academy as they drew closer. A faint glow from lingering flames inside the dome lite the way and made it easy for Toothless to land on the ground a few yard in front of the entrance. The Night Fury didn’t allow either of his riders to dismount and bounded the rest away into the Academy. Jack was not prepared for Toothless to skid to a halt and slammed into auburn haired Dragon Rider’s back. His nose throbbing from the impact yet it was ignored in favor of the brunet peering over Hiccup’s shoulder to see what the holdup was.

His assumptions – and _The Book of Dragons_ – was correct; the Skrill was definitely alive.

At the moment, the thawed dragon had its spiked back turned to them, its large clawed wings and tail wrapped around its body which was a bit bigger than Stormfly. When those wings started to unfurrow and its head crowned with spikes lifted up, shark-like gills on its neck were revealed as it stood up on two legs. Even in the dark, its yellow eyes appeared to shine from within purple scales as its gaze landed on Toothless.

An angry roar rocked the Academy as lightning from the sky struck not too far away. The Skrill took the momentary distraction to flap its wings in an endeavor to fly only to fall down, weak from however long it spent in the ice. Its weakness did not prevent it from getting right back up. Confusion and anger swirled in yellow eyes and when Jack made the mistake of shifting to get a better view, yellow eyes flew towards him.

An angry shriek rent the air while lightning flickered violently across the sky again. The electrical discharge had the Skrill standing taller, feet braced against the ground and Jack thought for a moment, there might have been a chance to calm the dragon. That there would be cause for concern. The chance vanished the moment Hookfang and his rider suddenly appeared at the Night Fury’s right while Stormfly and Astrid were on their left. The combined front had the other dragon taking a step back, its confidence fading to agitation and being confronted with a fight or flight instinct, the Skrill choose flight.

Yellow eyes darting around looking for an opening and when it found none, it attacked their weakest link. Meatlug and Fishlegs were knocked out of the way when the Skirll charged them, slipping passed the Gronckle and out of the Academy into the sky before the others could react. Lightning flashed from one dark cloud to the next, illuminating the escaping dragon, and fading along with the Skrill into the clouds.

This was what Stoick and Gobber found when they finally arrived. Taking one look around at the half shattered and partially melted ice, the chief’s stone green eyes landed on the gathered group.

“Their fault,” Snotlout pointed towards the twins not so innocently sitting on top of Barf and Belch at the other side of the Academy.

“Hey. He stole our plan,” Ruffnut groaned, sounding offended. If this was any other time, Jack would have liked the twins’ usual humor. Today wasn’t a usual day. Today had been a very bad day some far and things were getting even worse.

“I told you guys to leave it alone,” Hiccup snapped at the two blondes as he dismounted Toothless. Slowly, he made his way over to where a block of ice should have been but was now only a puddle of water and chunks of ice.

“It jumped us, sneak dragon,” Tuffnut answered immediately. The Thorstons jumped off the Hideous Zippleback’s necks and landed on crouch feet before standing up straight to cross their arms over their chest to show a united front.

“From inside a block of ice?” the Head of the Academy didn’t hold back the sarcasm in his voice.

Ruffnut looked at her brother, wondering how he was going to get them out of this one. Judging by the way Tuffnut’s face was scrunched up, he had no idea either. Then, as if a lightbulb went off over his head, he looked around suspiciously and held up his hand to hide his whispered remark.

“Uh… Very sneaky dragon?”

“Oh Thor,” the auburn haired Dragon Rider shook his head, clearly not believing a word coming out of Tuffnut’s mouth.

Jack had a feeling Hiccup would have started to lecture the twins, which was futile unless done with threats and bribery, but a stressed filled groan captured everyone’s attention. Turning towards the source, amber eyes found the chief kneeling next to the remains of the ice and picked up one of the larger ice chunks. Next to him, Thornado was inspecting the ice and after a particular whiff of the dragon’s sent, the Thunderdrum growled.

“What is it, Dad?”

“When I was a lad, my father's father used to sit me on his knee and tell me stories. I thought they were just tales,” Stoick said throwing the piece of ice to the side. The ex-spirit momentarily wished he had memories like that, but it was his mother who told him and his sister stories in the dead of night while his father could have cared less about him and his sister.

“Ah, I remember those tales,” Gobber shuddered, leaning against Grump for support.

“Tales about what?” the Guardian found himself asking. He was always a sucker for a good story, be it real or not. All stories had a lesson or two behind them and they were so much fun to tell, watching children’s faces change expressions was a treat within itself.

“Berserker fleets attacking behind harnessed dragons that brought down lightning from the sky and destroyed everything in their path,” the chief recalled with a faraway look in his eyes as he stood up and brushed the little ice chunks off his knees.

“Yo-you don't think the Berserkers could actually control a Skrill?” Hiccup asked eyes downcast as he thought of the implications before looking back up at his father.

“I didn't think anyone could ride a Night Fury,” Stoick answered and Jack could hear the pride in the chief’s voice as he glanced at his son before looking up at the storm clouds covering the sky. “We just can't take the chance. If the Berserkers find that Skrill and know some way to control it….”

“We'll find it, Dad. I promise.”

Stoick looked at his son and then at each of them and nodded. “Very well, I’ll leave this to you and your Dragon Riders. And you too, Jackson.”

The ex-spirit momentarily froze at being included but didn’t say anything. He did give the chief an absentminded nod and was reward with a slight nod of acknowledgement in return.

“Good luck,” Gobber wished them as the two older Vikings climbed onto their respective dragons and headed back into the village. Most likely to call to order another meeting to reassure the Vikings something was being done about the Skrill.

Another strike of lightning had the Dragon Riders glancing at each other. The task at hand daunting and difficult made worst by the storm.

“Any idea what we do after we find it?” Astrid was the first one to voice their concern, although the immortal teenager thought the better question would be where to find the dragon.

“We catch it, we tame it, we train it, keep it away from Dagur so he doesn't use it against us,” Hiccup answered not bothering to look at the shieldmaiden. Vivid green eyes swept over the arena. Searching for what, Jack didn’t know.

Blue eyes rolled as Astrid’s head rolled to the side with the action. “Oh, yeah. That sounds easy enough.”

“Actually, the Skrill does have some weaknesses,” Fishlegs pointed out, waving the leather bound book around. Jack once more palmed his face, knowing the the Gronckle rider was going to be quoting something from the book any second now and if he had placed bets on it, he would be collecting on them right. “According to _The Book of Dragons_ , it can't redirect any lightning if it's in the water.”

“That's a start,” the Head of the Academy mumbled inattentively, kneeling down next to the melted ice and running his fingers through the water.

“No, a start would be having any clue where this stupid thing is,” Snotlout growled out, glaring at the twins.

“Well, it shouldn’t be too hard to find,” Jack commented looking up at the sky for a moment. He listened to the winds whip around, raging in the clouds above. They were angry and it just wasn’t them. His skin prickled as the lightning lashed out and thundered boomed. Something was up and the Druid didn’t know if it had something to do with the Skrill or not.

“And why wouldn’t it be so hard to find?” Tuffnut asked, waving his arms around wildly. “I mean it could be anywhere in the whole archipelago. We don’t even know where to start.”

Ruffnut nodded along with her brother. “Yeah, I mean, even if we had the Wyldfae help to search Berk, it could have gone to any of the other islands.”

Everyone else just looked at the twins – save for the ex-spirit who was busy listening – staring at them incredulously, FIshlegs broke the growing silence. “I’m just going to come out and say it, they’re right and they have a solid plan to search for the dragon, using the Wyldfae is a great idea. Is anyone else surprise that it was Ruff and Tuff’s idea or is it just me?”

“What is the first thing you do when you wake up in the morning?” Jack asked coming back to his surrounding and looking around at the bewildered Dragon Riders. He distinctly remembered the day he had woke up in Finn’s hut. It was as if he had spent his last three hundred plus years as a spirit asleep as far as his body was concern.

“Well, usually I have to-” Snotlout started but cutoff himself off when his cousin snapping at him to shut up. The Guardian of Childhood tilted his head to the side, curious since Hiccup seemed to know exactly what the burly boy was going to say which had the auburn haired teenager blushing. He pondered what it was Snotlout did in the morning which had Hiccup blushing so badly.

“No, after that,” the Head of the Dragon Academy encouraged the Monstrous Nightmare rider onward having cottoned on to the ex-spirit’s thoughts.

“Oh,” the broad-shouldered Viking slapped himself in face as having finally figuring out what they were talking about. “Eat.”

“Exactly,” the Druid grinned as all the other Dragon Riders brightened at the lead.

Hiccup turned towards the dragon expert who was already flipping through the leather bound book. “Fishlegs, what is the Skrill's food of choice?”

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t gore itself with food and become sick,” the immortal teenager grumbled to himself, shuddering at the memory of him sickening up.


	28. Lightning to a Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I managed to stay on schedule! I feel invincible, life isn't going to hold me down! (I've just jinxed myself, haven't I?)
> 
> Also, sorry for the lack of response to last chapter's reviews, I was in a hurry but no fear, here they are this time around.
> 
> To Eo, yes you are correct, the cloak Snotlout stole from Jack and now wears is supposed to be the one from HTTYD 2.
> 
> Mihas, there are things planned for Finn seeing Jack yelling at Manny, pppllaaanss~! Now if they come to fruition or not, that is the question even I don't have an answer for. As for how Hiccup knows what Snotlout does first thing in the mornings, lets just say he walked in to his cousin's room at the wrong time and leave it at that, kay? XP
> 
> Victoria, thanks for catching the spelling mistake and pointing it out to me (I've fixed it). And thank you for appreciating the frequent updates, it's harder than it looks especially with how long the chapters are, so it's nice when someone notices and says something.

Lightning danced around them, too close for Hiccup’s comfort. He really didn’t want to get struck by lightning again. Once was more than enough. He could still feel the lightning running through his hand, down his body and out his foot, even if it was a year ago. Toothless crooned banking to the left and away from another crack of lightning. He didn’t like lightning much either.

“This thing can fly fast!” Snotlout shouted as they chased after the Skrill.  

Thanks to Jackson’s insight on where the dragon would be heading – and Hiccup wondered how the Druid had come about said insight – the Academy members were able to intercept the Skrill at Silent Sven’s sheep farm. However, the purple dragon was able to escape with one of the silent Viking’s sheep due to the Dragon Riders having to protect Sven from the Skrill’s claws. They lost even more time, giving the dragon a head start in getting away, in securing the other sheep. The delay had cost them and they lost sight of the dragon in the storm clouds.

Another bolt of lightning crashed too close for comfort, but it was Toothless balking that had Hiccup holding out his hand, signaling to the Dragon Riders. “Hold up, everybody.”

“What now?” Jackson asked from behind him, the brunet’s head peeking over his shoulder. Another flash of lightning and the silhouette of the Skrill hidden in the clouds became visible for a split second before vanishing. “Never mind. Just…just tell me you have a plan.”

“Everybody stay back. If the Skrill sees just one dragon, maybe it won't attack,” the Head of the Dragon Academy didn’t hesitate to answer the younger teenager, having already formed the plan as they were leaving Silent Sven’s. It was a plan he knew wouldn’t go over well with the rest of the Vikings and if it wasn’t for the winds currently whipping at his ears, the chief’s son knew he would hear the angry grumbles from the other teenagers. He would have preferred to go alone, but that was not possible.

“Shall we?”

Hiccup glanced over his shoulder at the Druid and sighed, but nodded his head. “We shall.”

Shifting the gears of Toothless’s tailfin, the dragon headed up into the clouds where the Skrill was hiding out. It did a very good job of it too, because the Dragon Rider had difficulty finding the dragon now that there was no lightning. A hook shape staff to his left drew vivid green eyes towards the crook and in the direction it was pointing in. There he could see a dark shape, unlike the other clouds, becoming darker as they moved closer. Soon, it wasn’t a dark blob but had distinctive wing shape appendages.

A crack of thunder did nothing to cover up the shrieks of the Skrill which sent Toothless into a fight or flight mindset, leaning more heavily to the fight instincts than the flight. Hiccup had to fight the Night Fury, keeping him in check and preventing him from outright attacking the other dragon. He might have managed to restrain Toothless, but even the Head of the Dragon Academy couldn’t keep the Night Fury from producing a dark, threatening growl.

“Ready?” Hiccup glanced back as he had Toothless fly circles around the other agitated dragon.

“As I will ever be,” Jackson quipped, wrapping the staff around the Viking and holding on tight.

Shaking his head, the Dragon Rider faced forward and allowed Toothless his head. The Night Fury immediately shot towards the Skrill, however, he didn’t attack the other dragon immediately. Instead, as they flew closer, Toothless came up alongside of the Skrill and not head on in hope their approach would come across as less hostile to the purple dragon.

For a moment, the Skrill didn’t appear to take any notice of them which Hiccup consider was a good sign. When Toothless glided a little closer at his rider’s insistence, yellow eyes locked on them. The dragon’s lips pulled back to reveal horribly sharp teeth while releasing a snarl to get Toothless to back off. However, the last half of the growl was lost in a crash of lightning which had Jackson startling slightly and drawing yellow eyes onto him.

Acting quickly, Hiccup ignored the warning growl and reached out towards the dragon’s horned nose; effectively taking the dragon’s attention away from the Druid. “There, there, fella. You've been asleep a long time, huh? I'm guessing you're pretty cranky and hungry too.”

The dragon didn’t fly away. Sparks did however jolt to life, dancing across the Skrill’s spikes forming little bolts of lightning which harmlessly discharged into the storm clouds. As Hiccup’s hand moved closer, the tiny bolts became larger and more intense. Another snarl from the purple dragon had Jackson yanking the Dragon Rider’s hand back with his staff and not a second too soon as the Skrill’s mouth snapped where his hand should have been.

Having enough of its warnings being ignored, the purple dragon reared back and roared before diving down only to shoot back up to intercept Toothless at speeds the auburn haired Dragon Rider had only every associated with the Night Fury below him. The Skrill’s rage was palpable, lightning jumping across its body and into the clouds, further fueling the raging storm as sparks started to formed in the dragon’s opened mouth.

“Toothless, stall turn!” Jackson shouted over the growing noise and much to the Night Fury rider’s surprised, the dragon shot straight up into the air. The staff around him, dug into his chest as the Druid held onto tighter to keep from falling. Oddly colored lightning blasted pass them on all sides yet none of the strikes were close enough to harm any of them. It did however, have the hair on Hiccup’s arms standing on end and his ears ringing. Below them, the Head of the Academy could hear the shouts and screams coming from the rest of the Dragon Riders before he suddenly felt weightless and they were diving down.

Vivid green eyes immediately caught sight of the Skrill heading straight towards them but Toothless wasn’t backing down. Lightning once again building up in the purple dragon’s mouth and Hiccup could feel the Night Fury’s own charge building up within the dragon’s body. A plasma blast shot out moments before the Skrill could draw in enough lightning to release its own attack, interrupting the purple dragon’s concentration and disorienting it. The Skrill’s frighten shrieked rent the air despite the blast not hit it but startled the dragon enough that it lost its charged and flew back into the clouds to recuperate.

“Nice,” Jackson sagged back, loosening his hold on the auburn haired teenager slightly now the imitate danger had pasted.

“Wow, that was impressive,” Hiccup barely heard Fishlegs trembling voice and turned his head to see the outline of the other Dragon Riders flying through the clouds to meet them.

“Sure, if by impressive you mean terrifying!” Snotlout shouted back, voice harsh and angry to mask his concern for his cousin and the Druid.

“Relax Snotlout, it wasn’t that bad. Hiccup knew what he was doing, right Hiccup?” Jackson prodded said Viking, yet vivid green eyes were fixated on where the Skrill had flown off into the clouds and it didn’t appear as if the chief’s son heard him.

The Night Fury rider nudged Toothless, changing course. “Follow me. I've got an idea.”

The Academy members shared a look with each other but complied without questions. Something that Hiccup was thankful for, since he was still in the process of formulating said idea. Together, the pack of dragons flew out of the cloud coverage and close enough to the ocean to hear the waves lapping against each other below. When they exited the fog, Hiccup turned in the saddle the best he could with Jackson behind him to go over his half backed plan with the rest of the Dragon Riders.

“I'm gonna dive through the cloud from above and drive that Skrill down to you guys so we can all drive it into the water,” because if a dragon’s head was wet then it could not fire. Or at least, that was what the Academy had taught him back when it was an Academy for teaching young Vikings to kill dragons rather than train them.

“Got it,” Tuffnut shouted; though a second later, blond eyebrows wrinkled together and he shook his head. “No, I don't. Sorry. Could we go back to the first part about how you're in the cloud, or is the cloud in you? It's all… It's sort of nebulous for me. Like a cloud in fact!”

Hiccup could feel Jackson chuckling behind him, however he couldn’t feel the same amusement the brunet did and he allowed himself a moment of weakness to slam his palm against his forehead. “Just do what everyone else does.”

“And how exactly are we gonna find the Skrill in that cloud?” Astrid huffed as she brought Stormfly up to his right to gain his attention.

“Toothless doesn't need to see to find something, remember?”

“Does that work in clouds?”

“Echolocation works in clouds,” Jackson confirmed and the auburn haired teenager wondered how exactly the Druid knew so much about Toothless’s talents when they were still discovering things about the Night Fury species. Not to mention the Druid had never seen a dragon until coming to Berk, it was a little perplexing how he knew so much.

“Just keep him safe,” Astrid ordered and Hiccup didn’t know which one of them she was talking to at that point. He really didn’t have the time to care either. Instead, the Head of the Academy pulled Toothless back and headed straight up into the sky. Once the Night Fury deemed them high enough, Toothless turn and tucked his wings in close as they plummeted towards the waters.

“Toothless, now!” Hiccup knew he didn’t have to commanded the dragon, Toothless had listened to the plan and knew what his part was. Yet the Dragon Rider felt better doing so, it gave him the illusion of control over a situation he had very little control of.

The Night Fury let out a massive roar and a moment later, ear-plates began to twitch wildly before Toothless let out a triumphant grunt of satisfaction. A small burst of plasma came from the dragon – proving Hiccup’s earlier confidence that Toothless didn’t need his instructions – and exploded in a large burst of light. Green eyes were drawn to a vague outline of the Skrill before things went dark again, but Toothless was on it. Another blast, this time closer to the other Strike-class dragon had the Skrill was forced to flying downwards in an attempt to escape from the Night Fury.

Soon the two dragons were out of the clouds and the Skrill quickly pulled up much to Hiccup’s dismay since it didn’t plunge head first into the cold ocean water as he’d hoped. The other Dragon Riders were right on its tail though. Blasts of fire and magnesium flames brushed the spiny wings of the purple dragon courtesy of Hookfang and Stormfly. Lava blasts rained from above, driving the Skrill even closer to the water but they couldn’t quite manage to get it into the water.

“It's working!” Astrid gleefully shouted as Stormfly’s fires came dangerously close to the angry purple dragon’s tail, leaving behind a blacken spot on two of its spines.

“Time to give this dragon a bath,” Tuffnut cried as Barf and Belch came from out of the clouds above right on top of the Skrill.

“I'll bet he hates it as much as we do,” Ruffnut chuckled, tugging on Barf’s horns. The motion had Barf opening his mouth and releasing large quantities of green gas which was directed towards the fleeing dragon. A few more seconds and Barf would have subsided, allowing Belch to ignite the explosive gas and forcing the Skrill into the ocean.

A bolt tip in flames prematurely ignited the fumes before the Hideous Zippleback could distance himself and his riders away from the resulting explosion. Hiccup could only watch in horror when the twins and their dragon were blown back. A gasp from behind him had the chief’s son whipping around to see amber eyes fixated on Barf and Belch, only for both of them to let out a sigh of relief when the dragon came back to his senses and pulled up before they could take a dunk into the frigid waters.

“We're under attack!” Astrid screamed as Stormfly dodged a giant boulder hurtling in her direction.

“Hiccup!” Jackson yelped, jerking his weight to the side and unbalancing Toothless. The Head of the Dragon Academy didn’t have the time to yell at the Druid for his action, not with an arrow slicing through the air inches away from the Night Fury’s head. “Whoa! That was close.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Hiccup absentmindedly breathed out, working together with Toothless to maneuver through a barrage of arrows while keeping his pounding heart from ripping out of his chest.

“I think Snotlout just got hit by the Skrill’s lightning! He’s still on Hookfang’s back though and-Uh…” the brunet trailed off before the Dragon Rider had a staff pointing in front of him, directing his attention down at the water. “Is that…?”

“By Hel, please no,” the older teenager prayed as Toothless flew dangerously close to the three longboats with a Skrill’s silhouette painted on each of the sails.

“Surprise, surprise, Hiccup! Oh! And you brought that pretty little Druid with you too!” Dagur cackled insanely from the flagship. The auburn haired Dragon Rider was slightly surprised he could hear the deranged Viking standing on the deck of the bow of longboat, but the man’s obvious interest in Jackson had Hiccup’s skin crawling. “Now get your dainty little hands off my Skrill.”

Men leaped from their hiding places along the longboats’ decks, firing bolts from their crossbows and launching rocks from trebuchets. Toothless easily dodged the bolts and blasted apart the boulders aimed his way, but Meatlug and Hookfang were in the direct line of fire. Neither dragon was to be deterred and the Gronckle easily caught, devouring the boulder while Hookfang’s flames incinerated the bolts aimed in his direction.

“Let's get out of range before they reload,” Hiccup order as the Night Fury dodged the last boulder.

“Already ahead of you,” Fishlegs agreed, Meatlug already whizzing by Toothless faster than the Boulder-class dragon should have been able to fly.

“Let's go, Bud,” the Night Fury rider whispered. Jackson must have heard him too, because the brunet tightened his hold around the Dragon Rider’s waist. With speed only a Night Fury possessed, Toothless shot forward easily surpassing Meatlug and taking the lead. The dragons followed his lead while their riders would occasionally glance back to make sure they weren’t being followed. No one spoke, traveling in silence before finding a small rock formation – too small to be called an island - where they landed to regroup.

“Hey, Snotlout, are you okay?” Jackson was the first to break the tension silence they had fallen into, sitting up straight to see around auburn hair and get a better view of the brunet Viking. “I thought I saw you get hit by the Skrill’s lightning.”

It wasn’t the Monstrous Nightmare’s rider who answered him, but Tuffnut. “Ha, he's better than okay. Did you see that lightning bolt to the head?”

The broad-shouldered Viking opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was his tongue and Hiccup couldn’t tell if his cousin knew that or not. Either way, the rest of what was to follow Snotlout’s tongue was a mess of blathering sounds than any real words. Even when Jackson went off in that strange other language, they all knew he was speaking in his native tongue. Yet this wasn’t any language, this was just babble.

“Tuffnut's right. Better than okay,” Astrid commented only to have Snotlout turn his blathering on her, making angry gestures in the shieldmaiden’s direction. “And making more sense than usual.”

“Okay, he's out of it, so the rest of us will-” the Head of the Academy started only to have his cousin to interrupt him with angry babbles and slapping his puffed out chest with a balled up fist. “Snotlout, we have no idea what you're saying.”

“Sure we do,” Tuffnut spoke up with absolute certainty. “He said, ‘I'm perfectly fine.’” The Monstrous Nightmare rider seemed to perk up, blathering louder and nodded his head fiercely. “Said it again. I told 'em.”

Upon turning his attention back to the rest of them, the skinny blond Viking was met with numerous disbelieving stares. Even his sister was looking at him with a pinched expression.

“What? I speak post-lightning Snotlout.”

“How many times has this kid been hit by lightning?” Jackson scratched his head with the crook of his staff, the crystal disappearing in to his brown locks. He scowled and began untangling the cord from his hair.

“Kid? He’s older than you are,” Hiccup pointed out, glancing at the Druid.

“Age is a relative term and I feel older than I look,” the brunet replied after chewing on his bottom lip, amber eyes refusing to meet his own. “Still doesn’t answer how many times Snotlout has been hit by lightning.”

“Often enough,” Tuffnut shrugged as if it was no big deal, but this was the first time the chief’s son had heard about his cousin being hit with lightning once, let alone numerous times. Snotlout drew everyone’s attention back to him with a new string of babbles which had blond dreadlocks bobbing up and down with each sound. “Twelve… Oh, really? Twelve times.”

“Twelve times… and he’s still alive? How’s that possible?” Jackson scrunched up his nose and looked to the Vikings for answers.

Sadly, the Druid never got a response as Snotlout shouted, shaking his hand threateningly upon at the sky while Tuffnut translated for him. “He said, ‘enough talk. Dagur's all mine.’ And Tuffnut is the toughest of us all.” The broad-shouldered Viking’s fierce blue eyes snapped onto the blond Viking and growled out, causing Tuffnut to hastily amend his translation. “He implied the last part.”

Hiccup groaned, dropping his head in both his hands. Once the Head of the Academy was sure he wasn’t going to yell at any of them – especially the chuckling Jackson behind him – the chief’s son turned to the only serious person currently on the mission.

“Well, you heard the man, Astrid. Take Snotlout and Fishlegs and try to keep the Berserker ships occupied. The twins, Jackson, and I will go after the Skrill. If Dagur gets his hands on it first, we won't stand a chance.”

“Be careful. The lightning is attracted to metal, and you two are wearing a lot more of it than the rest of us,” the shieldmaiden cautioned which drew vivid green eyes down towards his metal appendage connected to the metal gears and pulleys that operated Toothless’s very metal tailfin.

Jackson tapped the end of his staff against his boot, drawing both green and blue eyes to the brunet. “Don’t worry, Astrid, I have a plan for that.”

“Just don’t get yourself killed either,” Astrid warned, not even bothering to ask what his plan involved. Hiccup wasn’t sure if should ask in her stead or not since Jackson tended to have the most unconventional approaches that tended to leave him with more questions than answers or worrying about the Druid’s safety. For now, chose to keep his mouth shut and gave the shieldmaiden a strained smile. A motion to the twins had them following him, flying in the opposite direction as the rest of the dragons.

Before they could get too far away, Hiccup vaguely heard the sounds of approaching Berserkers shouts over the crackling of thunder. The noise was followed by Snotlout’s babbling and the chief’s son hoped the nothing would happen to the trio or their dragons while they attempted to keep Dagur at bay. A glance back had him witnessing a burst of light coming from the waters below as flames licked at the sides of the Berserkers’ longboats, catching one of the sails ablaze. The frown on his facing morphing into a line of thin determination as a new plan came to mind.

“Okay, I think I have a way to get the Skrill into the water, but it's super risky,” the Head of the Academy turned his attention back to the clouds in front of him and way from the ocean below.

“You, my friend, are speaking our language,” Tuffnut chuckled, barely being able to keep his excitement contained at the thought of creating chaos without any repercussion.

“Basically you're gonna fly blind through the cloud and have Barf let out as much gas as possible. Don't let Belch ignite it until you get to the other side,” vivid green eyes narrowed watching as the twins exchanged neutral glance before looking back at him.

“Causing a large enough explosion which might actual force the Skrill down towards the water to get away from the flames,” Jackson hummed, following his example and leaning to the right as Toothless banked to avoid a few sea stacks. “A worth idea; and as long as the winds are in our favor, they should make the explosion even larger.”

“Exactly, and we will be waiting below where Toothless can knock it down with a plasma blast,” Hiccup confirmed shifting the tailfin to slow down as lightning flashed near enough to their position to make the auburn haired teenager’s nerves rise another few levels.

Tuffnut let out a moan of sheer ecstasy, placing a hand against his heart. “Feel my heart, because it comes forth and is bursting through my chest.”

“That's a lot of gas,” Ruffnut let out a whimper of pleasure, a glazed look her blue eyes. “You have any idea how big a blast that will be?”

“No.”

“Me neither! How awesome is this?” the blonde Viking exclaimed excitedly throwing her arms up into the arm. The twins whooped and high-fiving each other at the pure insanity of the plan before grabbing onto the Hideous Zippleback’s horns and leaned over Barf and Belch’s heads with a spine-chilling grins on their faces. Working in perfect sync with one another, Tuffnut and Ruffnut pulled the dragon’s horns back and shot up into the clouds, flying into the lightning dragon’s domain.

“Think this will actually work?” Jackson asked as Toothless flew down and skimmed dangerously close to the water’s surface.

“No idea,” Hiccup answered truthfully as the wind began to pick up. Behind him, he could feel the brunet tense a moment before a loud explosion of fire lite the sky above. Both teenagers on the Night Fury’s back watched the clouds above for any sign of the Skrill, yet even as the light began to fade from the blast, the Strike-class dragon never came out of the clouds.

“He's flying back up!” the Druid yelled as the wind changed directions, circling around them momentarily. Vivid green eyes darted back and forth, but the auburn haired teenager could not see a thing through the darkness. Toothless, on the other hand, let out a roar and waited a moment before speeding up into the clouds not waiting around for his rider’s guidance.

They quickly rose into the clouds where a dark shape appeared, taking the form of the Skrill as lightning danced across the dragon’s body. Yanking back on the saddle, Hiccup jerked into action just in time to slow Toothless down and avoid being hit by a gigantic lightning bolt that flashed across the space in separating the two Strike-class dragons. It – thankfully – wasn’t close enough for the Skrill to absorb the bolt nor was it close enough for it to hit the metal the Night Fury and his rider depended upon.

“Okay, Bud, not too much. Just enough to bring him down,” Hiccup coached his partner as plasma began to build up inside of the Night Fury. Toothless did as instructed, letting loose a small plasma ball and decreasing his speed to kept from getting caught by the lightning dragon when it would inevitably come falling down. However, the shot never made contact with the purple dragon as the Skrill abruptly turned around.

Lightning skipped across the dragon’s spiny wings, down its back and onto the spines around the Skrill’s mouth where it accumulated into a ball. Absorbing more of the lightning from the storm encasing them, the ball grew larger and larger. Only seconds before the plasma blast would have hit the dragon did the Skrill release the ball of pure lightning. The two attacks collided and much to Hiccup’s surprise, they canceled each other out in an impressive display of lightning and plasma rings.

“Okay, that's a new one,” the Viking breathed out as his brain tried to process what his eyes had just witnessed. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Toothless’s plasma had _never_ been cancelled out before. Dodged, yes; perpetually detonated, yes: cancelled out? Never.

The Head of the Dragon Training Academy’s momentary distraction costed him, giving the Skrill time to getaway once more.

“Not a good thing then?” Jackson asked, however, he did not give Hiccup enough time to respond as a staff was once again thrusted into his line of sight, directing his attention downwards to the distinctively darker patch of clouds moving away from them. “He’s headed back down.”

Feeling frustration welling up inside of him, the Dragon Rider crouched lower to the saddle and directed the Night Fury to follow the Skrill. “Let's see how he handles this.”

Toothless was upon the purple dragon within seconds and forcing it out of its dive. The Skrill had to fly alongside the Night Fury or risk colliding with them which had the dragon growling at being outmaneuvered. It retaliated by firing off three bolts of lightning from its mouth just as Toothless fired the same number of plasma blasts. Each round hit one another, canceling the other out, and the concussive force pushed the two dragons away from each other and into the clouds.

“This is bad,” the auburn haired Viking admitted, looking around for any signs of the Skrill in the cloud coverage.

“It’s about to get worse,” Jackson cried out and he had to turn slightly to see the Druid looking straight up. Following his line of sight, Hiccup found a lightning covered dragon charging up to attack.

“Toothless!” the Dragon Rider shouted and the Night Fury reacted, fly forward and barely missing the dragon’s generated lightning strike. “This is worse.”

Another, much larger and bettered aimed lightning blast passed over head; the hair on his head sticking up in a way which had nothing to do with flying and everything to do with lightning. Toothless spun into a barrel rolling to dodge the attack and veered off to the left, followed by a nose dive down and out of the clouds.

The Skrill wasn’t to be shaken that easily and stuck close, assaulting them with a barraged of lightning. These blasts were nowhere near as powerful as the first few bolts of lightning and had a tendency of branching off into multiple directions at once, losing what power they did have and preventing them from reaching the Night Fury. Things were looking up. For all of a moment. Then a natural strike of lightning hit the Skrill right as he fired a bolt of lightning at them, increasing the bolt’s size exponentially.

“Oh, that one made my hair stand up,” Jackson shivered, clinging tighter to Hiccup as Toothless did another barrel roll.

The Dragon Rider grimaced, but nodded his head. “We need a plan and fast.”

“That’s my cue,” the brunet said and Hiccup felt more than saw him let go of one end of his staff, pulling it over the Dragon Rider’s shoulder. A hand braced itself against his opposite shoulder and the Viking turned in time to see Jackson crouching on the Night Fury’s back with his staff in hand. The clear crystal giving off a dangerous glint as it swayed over opened air.

“Jackson! What are you doing?” Hiccup cried, his heart leaping up into his throat.

“Improvising! You better catch me!”

“Wha- _JACKSON!_ ” Hiccup screamed his lungs out when the brunet let go of his shoulder and swirled on the balls of his feet before allowing gravity to take hold and he was falling. Toothless let out a shocked cry of his own and turned around without his rider needing to prompt him. Two pairs of green eyes watched as the blue cloak whipped in the winds as Jackson rapidly descending through the air, the wind pushing him faster downwards towards the ocean below and barely missing the bolt of lightning which passed between him and the Night Fury.

Toothless was forced to flare out his wings, catching the wind to prevent from flying directly into the line of fire. Acid green eyes snapped towards the threat, landing on the purple dragon. A growl erupting from his throat as plasma began to build up once more.

The Skrill was momentarily disordered – not knowing which target to go after – which left the perfect opening that Toothless took advantage of and blasted the lightning dragon. The plasma hit the Skrill squarely in the chest, knocking it unconscious and leaving it to plummet towards the ocean below. Hiccup was torn – although not as much as he should have been – between going after the Skrill to keep it out of Dagur’s hands and catching Jackson.

“We’ve got it!” Ruffnut shouted even as Toothless dove pass the twins and the Strike-class dragon towards the blue dot which was getting dangerously close to the waters.

They were coming in too fast to safely pull up and needed to go faster still in order to catch Jackson. Neither Toothless nor Hiccup hesitated. The Night Fury grabbed ahold of the Druid with his paws before flaring out his wings. A sudden updraft caught them and greatly reduced their speed, but not enough to keep from crashing into the ocean. A glimpse of Dagur’s longboats and Hiccup was hit with inspiration.

“Pull your wings in, Bud,” the Dragon Rider yelled even as he leaned forward to lie flat against the Night Fury’s back.

They hit the deck of the boat and rolled. Something dug into Hiccup’s back as they tumbled through the enemies’ longboat, but he ignored it in favor of trying to maintain his passion in the saddle. He failed, despite his best efforts and ended up skidding across the smooth wooden deck. Toothless was forced to let go of Jackson in order to roll up onto his feet and shook his head to clear the bout of dizziness. The Viking immediately got up and looked to his side to see Jackson pushing himself to his knees perfectly okay.

“Hiccup,” a voice growled out, causing the Dragon Rider’s head to whipped up as curse mentally. Of all the longboats to land on, they had to land on the one Dagur occupied. “My brother, what a pleasant surprise and you’ve brought me a present too. Or, I should say a spoil of wa _-r_.”

Dagur’s monologue was cut short as Jackson put his weight on his hands and swept the insane Viking’s legs out from underneath him. He went down faster than the Skrill had, hitting the deck with a strangled cry of pain. Hiccup was already scrambling to Toothless’s side and climbed on in front of an already seat Druid.

“Sorry about your deck,” the auburn haired teenager said insincerely as Toothless growled at the downed man.

“Not sorry about your head,” Jackson continued before the Night Fury took to the sky. They easily flew fast enough to get out of an enraged Dagur’s range of fire and back out to sea.

A crooked smile graced Hiccup’s face when he caught sight of the twins in the distance, flying away with the Skrill clutched safely in Barf and Belch’s fore claws. Off to his other side, green eyes glimpsed Hookfang, Stormfly, and Meatlug already retreating back towards Berk. Meaning the various plans clobbered together had actually worked and there was one less worry he had to deal with.

Glance over his shoulder, Hiccup did his best to get a look at the brunet at his back. “What in Hel’s name were you thinking?”

“That you would catch me,” Jackson answered and all the anger that had been building up inside of him dissipated. The absolute surety the Druid had answered him with had blown him away. His mind was left blank of anything he was going to say – scream, yell, shout – to the brunet and he was left with a slacked jaw. Something inside of him shifted and Hiccup felt heat rushing to his face at the amount of trust Jackson put in him.

Before he could say anything, lightning sparked to life drawing both amber and green eyes forward. Another crack of lightning came dangerously close to the downed purple dragon and, a moment later, proved to be too close as a bolt lashed out at the Hideous Zippleback causing the two-headed dragon to release his captive. The Skrill dropped in a freefall, attempting to get its wings back under it before the purple dragon regained its composure with a shriek.

Lightning built up around the Strike-class dragon that was immediately targeted at Barf and Belch. Before the conjured lightning could be launched at the Hideous Zippleback and his riders, a natural bolt of lightning from the clouds struck straight down as Jackson’s yelled out in his native tongue. The natural lightning bolt hit the purple dragon center mass and instead of powering the Skrill up as it had done before, the lightning disrupted the charge building up around the Strike-class dragon. The result was a huge explosion and a concussive force which pushed Toothless backwards.

Hiccup was forced to shield his eyes from the intensity of the blast and when he lowered his arm, both dragons and the twins were gone. Roaring, the Night Fury darted forward and circled over to where the dragons had been moments ago. Three pairs of eyes searched the choppy waters below for any signs of Ruffnut, Tuffnut or Barf and Belch but all of them came up with nothing.

A tug at his sleeve had Hiccup looking up to see the other Dragon Riders had joined them. Each of them wearing grim looks on their faces meaning they had witnessed what had transpired.

“Anyone see where the twins ended up?” Hiccup called out, hoping one of them had seen something he hadn’t.

“No, the lightning was too intense,” Astrid shook her head, blue eyes busy searching the waters below. Snotlout spoke up in his post-lightning blabbering but the shaking of his answered his cousin’s question when his words couldn’t.

“No,” Fishlegs responded last, causing the chief’s son to go pale as green eyes turned back towards the waters.

Everything had been going so right. They had gotten the Skrill, gotten away from Dagur, and had come out victorious. Yet, even before they could fully appreciate their victory, disaster had struck and two of their own were no longer with them.

“Did anybody see where the Skrill went?”

“No. But it isn’t down there and there is nothing to indicate the Skrill or Ruffnut and Tuffnut actually went into the water,” Jackson answered Fishlegs while simultaneously eradicating the growing fear inside Hiccup’s heart. Hope began to take root in the place of his fear as green eyes confirmed what amber eyes already found.

“They were blown away in the resulting blast when the natural lightning met the Skrill’s lightning,” the Head of the Dragon Academy observed. “The only question is where they ended up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in love with the image of Jack jumping off Toothless and trusting Hiccup enough to catch him. That was so much fun to write, hopefully you all enjoyed reading that as much as I enjoyed writing it.


	29. A Skrill to a Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just how many people marathoned this story in this last week? O.o I had so many reviews to that extent that I was curious, not that I'm complaining. I'm so happy the lot of you are liking this and leaving me Kudos and Comments. It was just odd that so many people did it in the last week. 
> 
> This part is a rant, please skip. Sorry, but I have to get this out. I know that I'm not the best of writers with grammar and spelling and I've grown as a writer by just writing stories and posting them on fansites. I cringe at reading some of my earlier works and just want to delete them because I'm so disappointed with myself, but I don't. So what I really hate about people is when they take their stories down which I've come to like and would enjoy rereading only to find the bookmarks no longer work because the authors have taken them down. I know there are some valid reasons why, but there are a lot of stories I would like to reread to give me inspiration or make me laugh when I had a bad day but I can't because they're just not there! GAH! It makes me so angry.
> 
> Again, sorry for the rant if you did read it, if not, read the story below and review. It will make me happy and not angry like I was above.

“Hiccup, we need to land. The storm’s not going to abide forever,” Jack informed the Dragon Rider he was currently clinging to. The winds had done all they could to keep the storm at bay for them as long as possible at his request. However, their search for the twins had gone on far longer than even he could have anticipated and the winds did not feel comfortable hold the raging storm back any longer. Nature had to take its course, something the former frost spirit knew well enough from experience.

“Just a little longer, then we’ll go,” Hiccup called back and Jack didn’t hold back. He hit the teen on the shoulder and gave a nonverbal request to the winds to let some of the storm loose. The resulting yelp of pain from the auburn haired teen was swallowed up by a crack of thunder as lightning danced around them.

“That wasn’t a suggestion. The storm is already picking back up and we had to return to the forge to pick up your shield, which I might add is made out of even more metal than both you and Toothless have combined. We are now in the middle of what used to be a midgrade thunderstorm which has now escaladed to a severe thunderstorm border lining typhoon,” Jack yelled out over the rushing winds. “The others were smart enough to stay back and let their dragons rest and now we’re stuck out in the middle of the ocean.”

“You didn’t have to come with me you know,” the stubborn boy shouted back with a trace amount of annoyance tainting his voice.

The Guardian knew he didn’t have to come with, but he felt partly responsible for what had happened to Ruffnut and Tuffnut. He wasn’t about to let anything happen to Hiccup either. Even if he wasn’t technically a Guardian of Childhood at the moment, the twins still believed in Jokul Frosti and he wouldn’t let anything happen to them without giving it his all. Jack also wasn’t about to let the auburn haired teen get himself killed over grief that it was him who pulled Ruffnut and Tuffnut into this mess when it was neither of their fault.

“Either you land and we wait out the storm, or I’m jumping off,” the ex-spirit threatened when Toothless continued to fly further into the storm.

Hiccup stiffened at the threat and Jack knew he had won, because it wasn’t an idle threat. It was a promise. The former Guardian of Fun would jump off the Night Fury with the knowledge the dragon and his rider would catch him. It was just the kind of person – and dragon – they were.

“Fine, Come on, Bud. Let’s get us outta here before we’re struck by lightning,” Hiccup conceded and the Night Fury banked back around, heading back towards land. However, he wasn’t heading towards the nearest island and Jack could hear the winds whining that they needed to get down as fast as possible.

“What about there,” Jack pointed out the dark island with a glow from either a dragon’s fire or an encampment of some kind.

“That’s Outcast Island,” the Dragon Rider spoke up after green eyes followed the staff and glittering jewel dangling down towards the landmass. Toothless gave out a growl and huffed at the very name, causing the Viking to pat the Night Fury on the head in an attempt to soothe him. “I know, Bud. It’s not my favorite place either.”

“I don’t think we got a choice,” the ex-spirit stated flatly as the lightning cracked around them again, this time closer than before. To make matters worse, the winds lost their tentative hold of the storm and rain began to pour down upon them in buckets. The Druid reached behind him and pulled up the hood of his cloak to keep as dry as possible. “We have to set down and wait out the storm.”

There was a moment of hesitation but another clap of thunder before the auburn haired teenager conceded the point and flew Toothless down towards the island. The Night Fury dodged a couple of lightning strikes which peppered the sky around the landmass while the rain started to come down harder if at possible. A whisper from the winds was all the warning Jack got before the winds gushed off at their truly terrifying speeds to join in on the severe thunderstorm, releasing the full force of nature upon them.

They were unable to get too far inland before the Dragon Rider was forced to land on a barren ledge dangerously close to what appeared to be the Outcast encampment. Hiccup hurried them off Toothless’s back and into a rock formation to shielded them both from the weather and– hopefully – the Outcast Vikings as well.

Jack followed the auburn haired teenager’s lead and hunkered down to keep out of sight, he doubted any of the Outcasts would spot them in this down pour. The immortal teenager could admit he might be wrong, which he was forced to do when flames from the encampment flickered to life at various intervals around the area. By straining his eyes through the downpour, he could make out guards walking round with covered torches lighting various lanterns around the encampment.

“I’m going to go check if the coast is clear. You stay here with Toothless out of the rain,” Hiccup commanded after he was sure they were safely hidden away behind the rock formation.

Jack rolled his eyes.

Yeah, like he was going to let the Dragon Rider go out on his own. Toothless definitely wouldn’t stay with him when his rider was in potential danger at the hands of an enemy they had faced countless times before and barely got out unscratched. And if the dragon wasn’t staying, then the immortal teenager definitely wasn’t going to stay behind either.

“Snotlout’s right, you’re delusional if you think either of us is going to stay here,” Jack snorted reaching into his pouch and retrieving a few ordinary looking small rocks.

“But-” the boy attempted to dissuade the Guardian of Fun, only to have to scurry back out into the rain to catch up to the taller teen.

Jack was thankful for his staff at that moment; it kept him from making an utter fool out of himself after such a cool exit. It was only because of the gnarled piece of wood he wasn’t lying flat on his back due to the slick wet rocks. He would have been better off using both of his hands, however since his other hand held the tiny pebbles which he couldn’t afford to loss – though, he wasn’t quite sure they would work despite all the time had put into them – the ex-spirit had to make due.

Jack stopped a few feet in front of the rock shelter’s cover, the rain pounding all around him and soaking his clothing in mere seconds. “Well, are you going to lead the way or am I?”

There were a few false starts, but finally the auburn haired teen found his voice. “Just stay close and run if I tell you too.”

The Guardian didn’t make any promises.

He followed Hiccup as the teen walked passed him. It took some climbing to get around the boulders and rocks in the way before they hunkered down and crept closer to the edge where the steady glow of flames illuminated the otherwise dark island. The Dragon Rider was the first to peer over the edge, only to duck back down when lightning crackled above them, brightening up their hiding place before darkening again.

They both wait a few heartbeats before looking over the edge once again. Jack was slightly astonished when he spotted what looked to be a dragon arena like the one on Berk situated right below them. Only the ring below was obviously made of lesser quality materials and cobbled together by idiots. Whereas Berk’s was completely made out of metal, the Outcast’s area dome was a collaboration of wooden logs and metal which appeared to be hastily rebuilt in some places. Fires were ablaze all around the arena and a rickety wooden bridge connected the cliff below with a trail Jack could only assumed led back to the Outcast’s village.

“That's a lot of Outcasts,” Hiccup observed, watching as even more Outcast Vikings ran across the bridge towards the dragon arena. Their distant shouts of alarm could be heard above the howls of the winds.

Jack nodded his head and moved one of the pebbles between his fingers, rolling it back and forth, ready to use it if necessary.

“What are you up to, Alvin?”

“All I know is he's planning something big with that Skrill,” Ruffnut answered her leader as she crept closer to Hiccup and looked down at the frantic Outcast Vikings below.

Amber eyes blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating and when the image didn’t change, the Guardian almost bolted over to the blonde Viking. His need to make sure she was alright was strong, but the need to keep her alive was stronger still. Any sudden movement might draw the enemy Vikings’ attention and they didn’t need that. Instead, he satisfied himself that while Ruffnut appeared as if she had been swimming in a muddy lake, she was whole and relatively unharmed save for a few scratches across her cheeks.

“Alvin has the Skrill?” Hiccup questioned only to shout in surprise when he realized it wasn’t Jack he was talking to. “Wait Ruff?! You're… you're alive! I-I don't believe it! Where- Where's Tuff?

There was a pause, before the blonde shook her head slowly. “He didn't make it, Hiccup,” Ruffnut spoke gravely, dropping her head.

Jack’s hold on the pebble between his fingers tightened, the pain from it biting into his skin didn’t even register for a moment. His grip loosened when he felt a slight tingle of electricity and he had to keep his emotions in check. He wasn’t the only one.

“What?!” the auburn haired teen all but shouted, only remembering to keep his voice down when lightning cracked above their heads.

Ruffnut then glanced up, revealing the mischievous grin she had been hiding. “Kidding! He's right behind you.”

Jack wanted to scold the girl for playing such a cruel trick; however, he was too busy looking for her brother to say anything. There was no one else around, only more rocks and a death corpse of a tree; Tuffnut was nowhere to be found.

“What's up, Hiccup? Cool disguise, huh?”

Amber eyes blinked a few times when he heard the rough voice of the other Thorston. Placing the pebble back in his pouch, the brunet walked over to the tree, determining it was where the voice had originated from. Jack crouched next to the corpse and tapped the wood. He was rewarded with a slight echo which had him searching for an opening.

“He’s in the tree,” the Druid determined, wondering how the blond Viking had managed to get into the husk of the tree when he couldn’t find an opening large enough for someone his size to fit through.

“Hey! Jackson’s here too!” Tuffnut laughed upon hearing his voice, which made the Guardian smile. “It's kinda itchy in here.”

“Not bad of a disguise, though. Going for the hamadryad appearance,” Jack commented, taking a step back to look at the tree as a whole and rubbed his chin.

“Yeah, yeah, Tuff hollowed out that tree so he couldn't be seen. Problem is he can't move,” Ruffnut explained as the four of them moved away from the edge and closer to Tuffnut’s hamadryad disguise.

“And I have bark beetles in my pants. I'm starting to like them,” Tuffnut’s muffled voice tacked on. Toothless, who had moved closer to sniff at the tree, grimaced before retreated back to Hiccup’s side. Not that Jack blamed him; he could have done without the comment as well. “Hey, fellas. A little to the left. Really scratch around down there. See what you can find.”

Hiccup made a similar face as the Night Fury had moments prior. “That's an image I could do without.”

“We all could have lived without,” Ruffnut corrected and the ex-spirit nodded his head along with her. As Jamie would have said, they would need brain bleach to get that image out of their minds forever.  

“Wait a second, how did you guys end up here?” the Head of the Academy shook his head and changed the subject to get all of their minds off the mentally scarring images. Maybe when all of this was over – and he had found a way back home – Jack would get Tooth to permanently remove the images from his memories.

“Alvin grabbed the Skrill out of the water after we were all blasted away by that lightning bolt” the Thorston currently not disguised as a hamadryad explained. “We decided to follow it.”

“Weird, right?” the blond Viking asked, although there was nothing weird about it to Jack. He had followed many of people when they had caught his attention while still invisible. Half the time he would lose interest or find someone new to follow when he grew bored; still, it had led to many of learning experiences for him.

“No! Actually, it was good that you followed it,” Hiccup said, his voice rising ever so slightly as he praised the twins.

“We knew that… That's why we did it,” Tuffnut the hamadryad jumped to correct himself. His voice only slightly hesitant even though they all knew he was lying through his teeth.

“Okay,” the Night Fury rider nodded his head, choosing not to go down the road they were currently on and back tracking to Alvin and the Skrill. “Let's figure out what Alvin plans on doing with that dragon.”

Together, the three of them crept back towards the ledge and laid down on the rocks, uncaring their clothes were getting dirty. It didn’t matter much since they were already drenched. Though, Jack had to admit, he was getting cold with the combination of the rain and laying on the rocks which were stealing his limited body heat.

Glancing over, amber eyes blinked as Hiccup pulled out a spyglass from inside his vest and looked through it at the area below. Ruffnut and himself, on the other hand, couldn’t see clearly what was going on. The distance and the rain making it near impossible to see but they could make out some movements like a few dots fighting to walk to the area and another group walking around. Though, Jack suspected they were trying to drag out the Skrill by chains and ropes.

“There it is,” Hiccup confirmed the ex-spirit’s suspicions as another dot – an obvious dragon – was pulled out from one of the stalls.

“Yeah,” Tuffnut agreed from inside the tree.

“Man! This is not good,” the Head of the Dragon Academy continued and Jack didn’t think he was even listening to Tuffnut at all. That or Hiccup wasn’t aware he was speaking out loud in the first place.

“No,” hissed the masquerade hamadryad and Jack looked up over the auburn haired teenager’s hunched form at Ruffnut with a raised eyebrow.

“We are in serious trouble,” Hiccup bit his bottom lip. The blonde Viking looked back at him and shook her head no, shrugging her shoulders.

“With a capital ‘T’. No, ‘S’,” Tuffnut confirmed. There was a moment where both the Guardian and Ruffnut waiting to see who would speak next. The Hideous Zippleback rider motioned in her leader’s direction while Jack shook his head and gestured to the Tuff-tree. "Wait, would you capitalize ‘serious’ or ‘trouble’? Both?”

The brunet grinned widely and Ruffnut lowered her head in defeat.

Hiccup lowered his spyglass and glared over at the tree, grunting angry.

Even without seeing his leader, Tuffnut seemed to sense his irritation and quickly worked to rectify the situation. “I'll shut up now.”

Hiccup sighed and turned back to the happenings down below. Flashing a grin at Ruffnut, Jack followed the auburn haired teenager’s example and looked back down. He had to squint which did nothing for the Guardian since he still couldn’t make out what was going on. The burst of lightning coming from the Skrill along with dots running around chaotically away from the bolts were pretty self-explanatory and could been seen even from this distance.

“Hang on,” the Night Fury rider said, leaning over the side even more to get a better view. His next words were said with such anger that Jack was astonished by the hatred behind it. “Mildew.”

“He’s the guy that hated dragons and betrayed Berk, right?” Jack asked Ruffnut, vaguely remembering the name from somewhere. The blonde Viking nodded her head in confirmation, her own face distorted in an angry sneer. There was more of a story there and even though his curiosity was peeked, now was definitely not the time to ask about it.

“That's weird,” Hiccup murmured, the anger gone from his voice. “Those look like Berserker soldiers.”

Hearing that proclamation, the ex-spirit and the blonde Viking exchanged looks before turning their attention to the ground of dots below. There was a new group of dots entering the arena. They didn’t look much different from the other dots to them, but the winds were telling him there was something different about the group. Hiccup confirmed his suspicions a moment later.

“Dagur! Dagur and Alvin together. With the Skrill? Really not good.”

Toothless growled as lightning crackled. The hair on the back of Jack’s neck stood on end and he looked up to see the lightning arc ominously above their heads before a thunderous boom echoed throughout. Once again the winds were howling in rage and the rain was pounding against them relentlessly. There was something more going on here than what was on the surface.

“I think it is time for us to get going,” the ex-spirit narrowed his eyes as lightning hit the Outcasts’ dragon dome and the Skrill let loose a powerful blast of its own. The arc of lightning came dangerously close to hitting them, which they avoided by ducking down behind the rocks. Tuff-tree wasn’t as lucky as the arc connected with the tree corpse and blasted the wood to pieces. Miraculously, Tuffnut was unharmed, but visibly shaken with his hair standing on end.

“No, we have to sneak into town and find out what Dagur and Alvin are up to,” Hiccup countered, putting the spyglass away. Logically, the Night Fury rider had a point, however, the winds howling warning were telling him differently and he was torn between the two. “Neither I nor Jackson can go, they'd recognize us. Well, Jackson might be able to get by Alvin but Dagur would recognize him. Ruff?”

“Outcast food gives me gas,” the blonde Viking said, scrambling back away from the ledge and towards a large boulder. Two heads appeared around either side of it as Barf and Belch peered out from their hiding place, the right head nudging Ruffnut. She reached out and hugged Barf to her in comfort.

“Yet another image I can live without,” the Head of the Academy mumbled with a disgusted look on his face before looking over to the last remaining option. “Okay, Tuff! Looks like you're up. You need to go down there and get as much info as you can without being seen.”

“Way ahead of you. I'll move like the wind,” Tuffnut agreed moving his hand around in wild gestures. A moment later, he had to jump out of the way when lightning struck out of nowhere near his feet. Jack was the only one to hear the indignant cries of the winds threatening the blond Viking with another bolt of lightning if he insulted them that way again. “They won't even see me coming!”

The winds took their final revenge by whipping pass the blond Viking as he made his way to the edge to climb down. A forceful gale had Tuffnut slipping on the wet rocks and tumble gracelessly down. The Druid had a feeling that the only reason the Hideous Zippleback rider hit every tree limb and small cliffs – breaking his fall but leaving some bruises – was because the winds were guiding him down to keep him from dying because they didn’t Jack to be angry with them.

“Crap!” Hiccup scrabbled to grab his spyglass once again to get a glimpse of Tuffnut. A loud sigh of relief left his lips a second later followed by a groan. “He has landed right in front of a guard. We’ll have to get the dragons and go rescue him.”

The Head of the Dragon Academy was already up and would have been on Toothless’s back if not for Jack catching him with the hook of his staff. “Wait, give him a chance. He can go this.”

Hiccup kneeled back down, but only after the immortal teenager gave another jerk on his staff and forcing him down. The auburn haired Dragon Rider clearly wasn’t happy and wanted to run down there, his whole body tense. However, he needn’t have to worry since the dot that was Tuffnut’s stood in front of the other dot for a stretch before walked away unharmed and making his way across the wooden bridge.

Jack looked over in time to see, the Head of the Dragon Academy whipping the rain out of his eyes and glance back at Tuff-dot. “He actually did it.”

“Well, yeah, Tuff knows how to think on his feet, duh,” Ruffnut replied and the Guardian had to hide the grin on his face when Hiccup just gave her an unimpressed look.

“Come on, let’s go back to the cave and get away from this rain while we wait,” Jack suggested as the wind picked up some of the rain and blew it away from their location.

* * *

 

It was an hour before Tuffnut returned with news and Jack was impressed by his bout of espionage. He apparently tricked all of the Outcast and Berserkers into thinking he was Berserker Buffnut and only Mildew recognized him. However, since he too had been hit by the Skrill’s lightning, he could do nothing more than jabber away in babbles no one understood. The Guardian would have to remember to tell Snotlout about it, the burly Viking would sure get a kick out of the Berk traitor also suffering from the same fate as he had.

Other than Mildew, no one questioned him. Not even Dagur when Tuffnut had come face to face with him. It only reinforced Jack’s opinion on the Chief of the Berserker Tribe was not mentally all there.

“But the plan Tuff, what is the plan?” Hiccup groaned as they sat around the glowing heated rocks courtesy of Toothless’s plasma blasts. Jack knew the son of Berk’s chief was impressed with Tuffnut’s accomplishment, but was more worried about what Dagur and Alvin were up to fully appreciate the irony of the situation.

“The plan is to smash those dirty Berkians to pieces with both fleets! It's gonna be awesome,” the Viking with dreadlocks shouted excitedly, smashing his fisted hand into his other hand and pulling them apart waving his fingers as if it had been an explosion.

“You, uh you do realize we're the Berkians?” the auburn haired Dragon Rider asked and the excitement on Tuffnut’s face disappeared.

“Oh, right,” Tuffnut nodded his head before grinning wildly once more. “Still gonna be awesome.”

Fingers clenched into the fabric of his pants as Hiccup dropped his head onto his knees. The Head of the Academy grunted and got up. His head hanging low as he started to pace back and forth, fingers rubbed his chin as he thought out loud.

“Two fleets and a Skrill are gonna be pretty tough to beat.”

“No, Alvin has made it pretty clear. Dagur doesn't get the Skrill until after they destroy Berk,” Tuffnut waved off his leader’s growing concern and leaned back against the way to lounge out lazily. “I think they have trust issues.”

Hiccup’s metal foot almost slipped out from under him when he stepped in a small unnoticed puddle, but Jack was quicker and held out his staff from where he sat just a few feet away. The Dragon Rider’s hand flayed out hand and caught the end, using it to steady himself. He looked over to see what he had used to steady himself on and when green eyes found the gnarled piece of wood, the Night Fury rider looked at the Druid and smiled.

The smile fell from his face though and he whipped around to look at Tuffnut. “Wait, what did you just say?”

“I said they have trust issues,” Barf’s rider sat up straight.

“No, you said ‘Dagur doesn't get the Skrill until after the attack’. Think about it,” Hiccup said, his voice working up and excitement coloring every word. There was a plan forming there and they could only watch as the Leader of the Dragon Training Academy became excited. “No Skrill, no alliance. No alliance, no invasion.

“Tuff, I need you to get back into town and distract the arena guards,” the auburn haired teen said waving his arms around before pointing out of the cave and in the direction of the arena. “Toothless and I are going to free that Skrill.”

“Uh, hang on a sec,” the blond Viking raised his hand to get Hiccup’s attention and halting the determined rant which was soon to follow. “I'm pretty sure Dagur threatened to cut my legs off.”

“So?” Ruffnut asked unfazed and Jack was reminded that he was dealing with Vikings. Most of Berk’s population was missing at least one limb and the older the Viking, the more limbs they were missing. The only exceptions to the rule were the children and a select few Viking warriors.

“Just wanted to get that out there,” Tuffnut responded, though he didn’t seem too sure of himself.

The immortal teenager couldn’t blame him; he had felt his staff being stamped by Pitch which was in essence a part of his spiritual self. That had hurt like a bitch and Dagur was threatening to do the same to Tuffnut, so he could understand the slight hesitation. Didn’t mean that would stop Jack if it came down to it and it didn’t seem to stop the blond Viking either.

“Ah, fine! I'm going. And my legs are on your head. But not… I mean, not… you know what I'm saying. You'll be thinking about these legs if I… lose 'em,” Tuffnut glared at his sister. The Guardian thought there was something more going on there, a silent conversation between the twins about what to do if he didn’t come back alive, and he wasn’t about to interrupt. He only wished he could have done something similar with his sister before his first meeting with the Man in the Moon.

“And what are me and Ruffnut supposed to do?” Jack asked, turning his attention to Hiccup to give the twins some time. The other teen looked slightly sheepish as he rubbed the back of his head and looked to Toothless at his side for an answer.

“Uh, you and Ruffnut are going…going to stay behind on Barf and Belch for a hurried escape?” the Head of the Dragon Training Academy offered.   Toothless let out a small shriek and drew his head back, glaring at his rider before running around Jack and putting himself between him and the Zippleback.   Amber eyes maintained their gaze on Hiccup, a delicate brow raising and folded his arms over his chest causing the auburn haired teenager to sigh, his arm falling to his side and shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I really didn’t think you’d go for it either.”

“You’re right,” the Druid climbed on to Toothless back to the Night Fury’s pleasure. “I’m going with you and Ruffnut can keep watch over Tuffnut from the skies above.”

“Fine, let’s go,” Hiccup sighed in defeat and mounted Toothless. As he lowered himself to the dragon’s body, the Dragon Rider whispered to the Night Fury; though, he probably though Jack couldn’t hear him and that was a misconception which the Druid would graciously allowed him to have. “Traitor.”


	30. A Deceiving View

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I no longer have internet (I upload at coffee shops now, thank you free WiFi) nor access to Netflix and suddenly they come out with new episodes to Race to the Edge? That's just not fair! Though, I am glad I get so many new readers! Thanks to all you marathoners who've read my story and left a review and more thanks goes out to those long time readers who've stuck with me through all this.
> 
> tricksterash: I appreciate that you like how delightfully horrible Dagur is and just keep that in mind while reading future chapters. *grins evilly* 
> 
> hui: 1) I update on Fridays (well, for me it is Friday, it might be Saturday for others depending on how late at night it is). 2) I haven't even finished this story yet and you're already asking me about Race to the Edge? It's taken over two years for me to write what I have and start posting. No matter how much I wish I could rewrite all of Race to the Edge episodes (or at least the ones I've seen) to incorporate Druid!Jackson into them, I don't have the time. Sorry. *Goes and cries in the corner because I very much want to but I'm being a realist here and don't have the time.*
> 
> BlackMoonFantasy: Yeah, Toothless has done a one-eighty when it concerns Jack, but that was what he did with Hiccup in the first movie. I was trying to draw some parallels there.
> 
> Anim3Fan4Ever: Slow burn is slow, I know. That has something more to do with the fact when I outlined this story it was 10 Chapters long (yes, that is correct it was only 10 Chapters) and then I watch Defenders of Berk again and wanted to add one episode then another episode in until I pretty much was rewriting the whole series and those chapters got shoved in between the 'Hiccup and Jack met' and the 'HiJacks' portions of the story. Besides, no matter how much I love sappy romance, fluff, and PWP stories, I can't write them. It's one of my faults, event though I've tried writing them, I suck at them.

Tuffnut was the first to leave, climbing back down the rocks followed by Ruffnut taking flight to the sky on Belch’s head while Barf looked down forlornly for his rider. Hiccup waited some time before they flew back out into the rain and towards the dragon arena. Toothless effortlessly hiding in the dreary climate, only his red tailfin standing out. They landed on the edge of a cliff not too far away from the dragon ring and the two dismounted creeping close to the side weary of the guards.

“Good job, Tuff. That was quick,” Hiccup praised the Viking not even there when they encountered three full grown Outcasts knocked out. He pushed himself up out of hiding now that the obvious danger gone, but Jack reach out and jerked him back down. A grunt of discomfort left the auburn haired teenager as he made contact with the rock once more and green eyes looked over towards the Druid whose eyes had never left the arena.

“Hiccup, use your head. That’s not Tuffnut’s handy work,” Jack said, his eyes darting around the arena looking for any signs of movement. He saw the pools of water surrounding the guards weren’t just from the pouring rain, but tinged red. They weren’t knocked unconscious, they were dead and Jack knew the blond Viking didn’t have the strength to kill three fully grown Outcasts on his own. Not without causing a commotion and drawing attention to himself.

“Jackson-” the Dragon Rider started, but the ex-spirit wouldn’t hear any of it and stood up.

“No, Hiccup, you stay here,” the Guardian in him was kicking in.

He easily jumped from the ledge onto the framed dome of the arena. From there he shimmied down the metal and wood to a lower area where he dropped down. His boots splashing the water beneath him out of the way, but he didn’t dare stand from his crouched position. Instead, he looked around, seeing five more Outcasts dead in the arena, hidden from view inside of the cell like stall of the Skrill. The dragon, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen.

“It’s gone,” Jack called out to the agitated teenager, standing up when he was sure there was no one else around.

“What?” Hiccup hissed, having not listened to the brunet it would seem as he and Toothless were perched on top of the dome frame and not hiding.

“The Skrill, it’s gone. Dagur must have already taken it,” the Druid answered through gritted teeth.

A banging noise had Jack whirling around, staff at the ready and his hand going into the pocket only for him to relax when he saw Tuffnut standing up on the viewing platform of the arena. The blond Viking hadn’t noticed him yet, having braced his hands against his knees to catch his breath. Yet when blue eye glanced down into arena, they did a double take upon noticing Jack.

“Oh, good, I thought I was too late,” Tuffnut heaved out between gasps of air, looking around at the downed guards. “Nice job with those guards, by the way. Where's the Skrill?”

“We don’t have it,” the immortal teenager absentmindedly answered, amber eyes looking for the best way to get back up and out of this place. The numerous bodies were starting to creep him out.

With a running start, he used his staff as a javelin to propel himself upward. The crystal attached to it sparkling in the light when he was airborne yet it wasn’t enough of a distraction that he couldn’t grab hold of a low handing wooden poll when it was in reach. He was just thankful the wooden support beam had been knocked out of place from the dome’s frame. It allowed him to swing his legs up, wrapping around the beam and hung there for a moment to catch his bearings.

“Well, if you don't have the Skrill, and if you don't have the Skrill, and I don't have the Skrill,” Tuffnut asked, pointing from Hiccup to Jack to himself, “then who has the Skrill?”

“We don’t know,” Jack grunted, swinging himself around so he was sitting on top of the support beam.

A distant scream had them all freezing and looking in the direction the scream had originated from. A moment later and warning horns from the Outcast village began to sound. The sound was struck each of them in the hearts and it was as if a fire had been lite under their feet, which got them all scrabbling to get out of there.

“Gotta go. Tuff, you go get Ruff,” Hiccup called out as he nudged the Night Fury towards the brunet.

Toothless expertly maneuvering across the dome frame and towards the bent frame. When they were over the top of Jack, the Dragon Rider reached down, offering a hand. However, he wasn’t able to reach the brunet from his position. He could, however, grab hold of the staff Jack offered up. Between the two of them, they were able to swing the immortal teenager up and onto Toothless’s back.

A glance from acid green eyes to confirm the brunet was indeed in the saddle and a nudge from his rider had the Night Fury bounding to the top of the dome. “We're gonna try and find that Skrill before Dagur does.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jack gasped for breath, his heart pounding as he brought his staff over Hiccup’s shoulder and grabbed hold of the other side to hang on. “Let’s fly.”

That was all the incentive Toothless needed to spread his wings and took to the sky, flying straight into the raging storm above. Glancing below, amber eyes caught sight of Outcasts running, not to the dragon dome as he had expected but to the port. Most of them boarded two longboats while several more boats were already manned and heading out to sea. Following those boats, Jack found a whole different armada of longboats with Skrills on their sails heading away from Outcast Island. But what had Toothless chasing them was the lightning dancing around one of the fleeing longboats.

As they grew closer, the ex-spirit could make out the longboat housing the source of the sparking bolts of lightning came from a Berserker ship, which didn’t come as a surprise to him. He was surprised, however, that there was an Outcast longboat preventing the boat from going any further and blocking the Berserkers’ escape. The worse part of the whole situation was that both boats were already at war with each other, the Berserkers firing crossbow bolts while the Outcasts hurled spears.

“There’s Dagur,” Jack easily spotted the deranged Viking, his skin crawling at the redhead’s presence.

“He’s fighting Alvin,” Hiccup nodded while Toothless circled high above the two longboats. “And there’s the Skrill.”

As they banked around, the Guardian could see the purple dragon in the air, futilely fighting to fly away. There was no way it could flee, the Skrill was anchored down to the deck of Dagur’s longboat by thick ropes attacked to some kind of harness. No matter how much the dragon fought against the bindings, the Skrill could not break free.

Sad amber eyes watched on as Dagur grabbed hold of the ropes restraining the Strike-class dragon and _yanked_. An angry shriek came from the beast as lightning chaotically sparked from around its body before forming into a ball. The bolt of lightning was directed towards Alvin who stood a few mere feet away from the deranged Viking on the Berserker chief’s longboat. For such a large man, the Outcast chief was quick on his feet and flung himself out of the way, barely.

“He can control the dragon’s lightning,” Hiccup’s ominously observation really did not make the ex-spirit feel any better after having come to the same conclusion for himself. He wanted to be in denial. Jack was happy to be in denial, but Hiccup had to go and take that away from him. Now he had to face the facts and the facts were that Dagur the Deranged – the bastard who offered to buy him from Hiccup – had a dragon which could control lightning that cancelled out Toothless’s plasma blasts, and had a hatred for the Hairy Hooligan Tribe. Things were not looking good for them.

Another jerk from Dagur had lightning arcing out at Alvin and the burly man was forced yet again to dodge on the very limited space of the deck. He was losing ground. The space became even smaller when the deck caught fire from a stray bolt of lightning. The deranged Viking didn’t even seem to care his boat was on fire, he just laughed harder with a maniacal edge to his voice and jerked on the rope once more.

Alvin was left with no option other than to jump overboard to avoid the latest lightning strike and no matter how much Jack strained his eyes, he didn’t see the Outcast chief ‘s head come back up over the crashing waves. Not that it kept Dagur from forcing the Skrill to fire blast after blast of lightning into the violent water where Alvin had entered.

Jack couldn’t help himself. He hid his face into the wet fur of Hiccup’s vest. One hand releasing his staff to cling to the fur and feel the pounding of other teen’s heart vibrating through his hand.

“That's not good,” the Dragon Rider tensed and Jack wondered if this was the first time he had witnessed someone being murdered. The immortal teenager had seen a person die before and had witness a few murders while he was invisible. It never got easy.

He could deal with fighting Pitch’s minions and destroying them, because they weren’t _natural_. They weren’t alive, but physical manifestations of fear and anger and hatred and that was _wrong_. The Guardian could eradicate them with no problem. However, he could not stand senseless killing. Jack could deal with dead bodies since winter had a high number of casualties and he had on more than one occasion lead others to their love one’s corpses, but killing wasn’t his style. He couldn’t stand watching someone die and be helpless to do anything.

“I need to come up with a new plan, Bud, and fast,” Hiccup murmured quietly and the ex-spirit wished he could be of more help. He wished he was still Jack Frost with frost at his fingertips and bolts of ice from his staff. But here, in this timeframe, the only Jack Frost in existence was the Jokul Frosti he – Jackson Overland – told stories about.

“That’s it!” the immortal teenager’s shouted, pulling his face out of the brown fur vest. “I have an idea.”

* * *

“For the record, I don’t like this idea,” the Dragon Rider said from on top of Toothless as the Night Fury hovered over the rock stack Jack currently stood on.

The ex-spirit just shook his head and pulled his hood up over the top of his head. “You don’t have to like it; you just have to get Dagur here. Now, how do I look? Can you see my face?”

Hiccup scrunched up his nose and really looked at him before shaking his head. “No, I can’t.”

“Good,” the brunet worked on making his voice sound a little deeper and unrecognizable. From the look on the auburn haired teen’s face, he succeeded. “Now you just have to do your part.”

With one last look, Hiccup nodded his head and nudged the Night Fury to fly off towards the Outcasts’ encampment. Jack watched him go, worrying at his bottom lip. He wasn’t sure his plan would work regardless of what he had told the Viking. The Berserker chief hadn’t seen him with his cloak on before, excluding the skirmish which had taken place yesterday, and the Druid hoped Dagur hadn’t been paying too close attention. He didn’t need the deranged Viking recognizing him, else his plan would fail.

The next part would all depend on Hiccup’s skills as an actor and Dagur’s gullibility. He had a few parlor tricks ready to help sell the whole charade, but they needed to be carefully timed for things to work. Other than that, they needed a whole bunch of luck to pull this off.

Jack waited perfectly balanced on the stack of rocks, not bothered by the winds whipping around him or the rain pelting down. It was the act of waiting that was bothering him as he fingered the cloth in his hands. Lightning struck near him, the smell of ozone pungent and the thunder resounding in his ears, yet the ex-spirit only tensed because it illuminated the hurtling form of Toothless speeding his way.

Jumping from rock formation to rock formation behind the Night Fury, Dagur used his hold on the rope tethers hooked to the Skrill’s harness to glide between the vast space from one stack to the next. The immortal teenager watched and waited with baited breath for the Berserker to get close enough. He had to fight off the urge to act and held on tightly to the cloth in his hand. Finally, when Hiccup and Toothless passed by the tallest stack – he had picked his perch for that very reason – and Dagur was a few rock formations to his right, the Druid threw the piece of folded sunshine up and let the winds do the rest.

Light burst forth from the scrap of cloth and Jack could hear Toothless’s shriek off to the side. The Skrill gave out a shriek of its own, only the brunet knew this one wasn’t faked for their little charade’s benefit.

“Who are you to dare and wake me from my slumber?” the ex-spirit croaked out lowly but he knew both Hiccup and Dagur had heard him with the winds amplifying his voice. The deranged Viking looked around wildly before his eyes finally settling on the billowing blue cloak which stood out in the otherwise droll surroundings.

“Who am I? _Who are you_?” the Berserker chief demanded before grinning widely and starting laughing. “Trick question! I don’t care. Take that!”

Dagur yanked hard on the leads to the Skrill and the dragon roared as lightning jumped from its wings to its head to form the familiar blast of lightning which was directed straight at him. Jack didn’t move though; he wasn’t going to dodge this one. It had been what he was waiting for, what he had hoped Dagur would do, and he hadn’t been let down. Swiftly, the brunet reached into his pouch and grabbed the handful of pebbles he had spent hours poring over.

“ _Liget_ ,” he whispered harshly and threw the small rocks. He had practice the light spell he used to defeat the Dream Pirate a few times during sleepless nights to get it to work. He had never actually managed to recreated the effect, but he had been able to generate sparks of light in his clear crystal during his last attempted. However, with the pebbles – which were actually small piece of iron – he had hoped to use them as focus to spark the spell to life instead of using the Crystal Cave crystal. However, nothing happened and he found himself repeating the spell again and again with more distressed on each repetition of the word. “Liget… Liget…. Liget…

“ _Ligetræsc_ ,” the Druid all but screamed as the lightning was almost on him. The word tasted unfamiliar even on his own lips while his eyes burst open – when had he closed them in the first place? – and he held up his staff. The small iron nuggets in the winds glowed with power before the Skrill lightning arced out towards the various positive charged pebbles and away from him.

Jack could only image what it looked like to the Vikings, him holding up his staff and the lightning redirection itself around him and crashing down to the rocks below uselessly. Slowly, he lowered the gnarled piece of wood and turned his head to face Dagur, being careful to keep the hood covering his face. A pleased grin made its way on his face – though he tried to fasten it as an evil smirk, which he didn’t know if he succeeded or not – when he saw the dumbfounded expression on the Berserker’s face. Jack only wished he could see Hiccup too, he wondered what the Dragon Rider thought of his performance.

“You, _mortal_ , dare to attack I, _Jokul Frosti_? You shall pay for your transgressions,” the ex-spirit spoke as the winds howled, picking up around them and the freezing cold rain finally slowing and stopping altogether. A small white flake fluttered down from the sky right before amber eyes followed by another and another still. Jack didn’t dare look up, afraid to break the charade, but he was just as stunned as the gasp which came from Hiccup as snow began to fall way too early in the season.

“Jokul Frosti?” Dagur opened and closed his mouth, his grasp on the Skrill’s tethers slackening as he took a step back. “You… You’re the spirit that the Druid told me about! The one that plays tricks and… and-”

“And buries those who have provoked me in snow,” Jack growled out as the snowflakes became much larger in size and fell faster. It was the beginning of a blizzard in the making.   “And _you_ have woken me from my slumber only to attack _me_! Prepare to feel my wrath!”

Dramatically, he pointed his staff at the deranged man who took another step back and Jack couldn’t keep the grin of his face if he tried. The Viking had stepped on top of one of the positively charged lightning pebbles the eternal teenager had stashed on a few of the various rock stacks for this very reason and like anyone with even a hint of survival instincts, Dagur was faced with the fight or flight dilemma.

He chose fight.

Jack had been counting on him to.

When Dagur tugged at the Skrill’s tethers, instead of sparking towards the dragon’s mouth to create a lightning attack, the negative charges raced downwards to the small positively charged rocks. Passing right through Dagur and electrocuting him. The lightning display lasted a few second before the Berserker let go of the ropes and fell to the ground twitching.

Unfortunately, the deranged Viking didn’t stay down long and was fighting to stand up, gasping for breath. Dagur tensed as the residual lightning passed though him and he fell once more. The second fall had him going over the side of the cliff and down about ten feet where he landed on a small plateau. He was knocked out for sure this time.

“I really don't think he's going to be leading an invasion anytime soon,” Jack happily stated, throwing off his hood and looking up at Toothless flying overhead with his rider.   The snow had slowed down to just a few flakes here and there and the winds had subsided greatly. Jack could even see moon coming out from behind some of the clouds and providing them much needed light. “What about you? You think Berk’s going to have to worry about the twitching mass of flesh over there?”

There was a moment of silence as Hiccup opened and closed his mouth, before shaking his head. “No, don’t think so.”

A bolt of lightning lashed out right at the burnet and it was only due to the wind’s warning he was able to dodge in time. Although, seeing as he was on top of a very limited spaced, the only place for him to dodge to was over the side and out into open air. Jack didn’t have time to worry as Toothless dove down and flew under him, so he landed on the dragon’s back.

“Wish I could say the same for this guy!” Hiccup called out as the Guardian hooked his arm over the Dragon Rider’s shoulder and they took off.

Turning his head, Jack caught sight of the now freed Skrill chasing after them. He would have turned around but a crash of lightning from behind the Strike-class dragon had amber eyes widening. For a fraction of a second, when the natural bolt of lightning had struck, a shadowy shape had partly separate from the dragon and the dark scales of the dragon became slightly brighter along with its yellow eyes. The pirate hat was a sure indication of what had attached itself to the dragon; another Dream Pirate.

The Skrill had been possessed by a Dream Pirate. It was no wonder the elements were going crazy; the Balance of Nature was in an uproar with a magical creature being enslaved by one of those unnatural beings. The Skrill had probably been frozen by the Vilias along with the rest of the _Nightmare Galleon_ and when the glacier had broken apart because of Jack and Toothless destroying the galleon, the frozen dragon had drifted out to sea. If only the former Guardian had notice, then they would be currently facing the Skrill possessed Dream Pirate.

This was much worse than having to deal with Dagur. Much worse. Jack gridded his teeth and turned back around in time to see several rock stacks ahead of them. Toothless’s flawlessly maneuvered through the rocks and through the valley on the other side. The possessed dragon wouldn’t be shaken though and they had a few close calls with the Skrill’s lightning.

Jack dearly wished he hadn’t used his only article of folded sunshine as a distraction on Dagur. He could have used it against the Dream Pirate then. Now that he thought of it, the folded sunshine might have been the reason the shadowy creature was having problems possessing the Skrill. Maybe, with more light, the Dream Pirate wouldn’t be able to keep its hold over the dragon and – hopefully – the Skrill would be free.

“We need to lose him,” Hiccup yelled as they headed out towards ocean and away from Outcast Island. The Guardian had to hang on even tighter as they flew up into the storm clouds and back into freezing rain, the soft white flakes of snow having disappeared when the Dream Pirate was revealed. The wind screamed for his attention, but he couldn’t hear it over the ringing in his ears from the boom which accompanied the possessed dragon’s lightning.

Jack turned his head, trying to hear what the wind had to say but he couldn’t make out much. All he could understand was something about ice and cold.

“Actually, scratch that. We need him to follow us,” the Dragon Rider turned his head so Jack could hear him, banking Toothless to their right. The ex-spirit looked passed auburn hair to see a very familiar iceberg floating in the distance. The winds and Hiccup’s plan hitting him full force as the Night Fury flew dangerously close to the raging sea.

The Skrill let lose another bolt of lightning just as they reached the glacier, hitting the ice and dislodging a large piece right over the top of them. Toothless dove even lower, skimming the waters before flying straight up between the limited space of the glacier and the dislodged chunk of ice. They safely came out the other side, only to have to dodge another arc of lightning.

“Down, Toothless, into that cut in the glacier,” Hiccup directed and they were flying straight into a small fissure in the ice.

Toothless had to pull his wings in to fit though the opening, but they managed to clear it and were inside the glacier. Luckily, the cut opened up into a large caver which gave Toothless the room he needed to move as the possessed dragon rocketed in on the Night Fury’s tail. The Skrill’s wings clipping the side of the opening and scattering chucks of ice in all directions, some of which pelted Jack in the back. It slowed the purple dragon down somewhat, but not that much and the Night Fury had to fight to keep them ahead of the Skrill.

“Toothless, up there! Tight turn!” Jack yelled spotting a small narrow opening in the ceiling and pointed his staff in the direction.

The dragon spared no hesitation and took the turn. They flew out of the ice cavern and into an open ravine. Looking around, amber eyes found themselves viewing multiple sets of Night Furies along with Hiccup and himself in the reflective surfaces of the ice shards. While he was busy beholding the natural phenomena in wonder, Hiccup saw it as tactical advantage.

With a pat to his head, the Dragon Rider urged Toothless to position himself off to the side of the opening. It took a moment but Jack understood why a second later when he saw their reflections being projected on the ice right in front of the entrance. So when the Skrill came through the opening, the first thing it saw was an image of them and the possessed dragon never even slowed down. It flew head first into the wall, knocking itself out.

A triumphant roar echoed through the ravine as Toothless stood triumphant the possessed Skrill victoriously.

“Good work, Bud!” Hiccup praised, scratching the Night Fury behind one of his ear-plates.

However, amber eyes kept focused on the downed dragon, watching as the purpled scales grew even darker and when the Skrill’s eyes snapped opened, he wasn’t surprise to see the haunted glow. The dragon’s nature yellow colored irises replaced by a mass of gleaming white that spread. Slowly consuming the dragon’s pupils and moving on to its sclera. Before the Guardian knew it, he was staring into the eyes of a Dream Pirate.

“ _Hiccup!_ ” Jack yelled the instant he realized the Dream Pirate had gained complete control of the Skrill. The alarm in his voice must have told the Dragon Rider all he needed to know, because the next moment Toothless was in the air, flying them straight up.

As they ascended out of what was a ravine, the Guardian let go of his staff with one hand and plunged it into his back pouch, desperately searching for any more iron pebbles. He could hear both Strike-class dragons preparing to attack, the whir of the Night Fury’s plasma mixing in with the crackling of lightning. It was the lightning which won out, being just a bit faster than Toothless. The Dream Pirate-Skrill wasn’t faster than Jack though, his fingers wrapping around a few cold pieces of metal and as the lightning arched up to meet them, the Druid hurled the pebbles with all his might back at the possessed dragon.

“ _Ligetræsc_.”

The lightning attack was once more drawn towards the pieces of iron, diverting the strike away from them and toward either side of the ravine’s ice walls. The burst of light resulting from the lightning crashing into the walls overwhelmed both Hiccup and Jack but it wasn’t just from the Skrill’s attack. The crystal on the brunt’s staff blazed to life and it was through squinted eyes, the Guardian watched as the Dream Pirate was forcefully separated from the purple dragon only to be eaten away by the light.

Toothless’s plasma blast hit the dragon squarely in its chest, knocking the now freed Skrill back down in the ravine. The ice – weakened from the lightning – crumpled in and on top of the dragon, a cloud of debris obscuring the Skrill. However, the Night Fury and his rider were not sticking around much to Jack’s disappointment. He wanted to see if the purple dragon would act differently now that it was no longer possessed; if it was as peaceful as Toothless was now the Dream Pirate’s control was broken.

However, the Night Fury was already up in the sky, hovering over the iceberg with plasma forming in his mouth. Before he could fire the blast, fire exploded near Toothless’s wingtip. The resulting shockwave had the black dragon losing his concentration, resulting in the loss of the plasma charge.

“Hey, why do you get to have all the fun?” Tuffnut called out from on top of Barf’s head.

“Yeah, this job was made for us,” Ruffnut agreed, directing Belch to dive down and fill the ravine with as much gas as the Hideous Zippleback’s right head could produce. Her brother then yanked on Bark’s horns and the dragon let out a spark, igniting the gas. The twins managed to time the spark just right so there was a small stint that allowed the dragons to fly away before the gas could fully detonate without any of them being caught up in the blast.

The result had ice and water falling into the ravine, filling it completely. Combined with the raging winds and the freezing rain pelting down on his skin, Jack knew the area would be frozen solid and the Skrill with it. The ex-spirit’s only consolation was the dragon was not dead, but frozen in hibernation once more. Hopefully, when the Skrill would wake the next time, it would not be under the same circumstances and it would be free.

“Guys, let's go home,” Hiccup let out a heavy sigh when neither of the dragons dared to land on the ice for a short respite.

“Thought you'd never ask,” Ruffnut let out her own sigh of relief as the two dragons immediately headed towards Berk. The haunted atmosphere lingering over the small group which none of them dared to break until well after the glacier was out of sight and even then, the silence clung to them.

Tuffnut, in an attempt to lighten the mood, spoke the first thing to come to mind. “I am gonna miss some of those Outcast guys. They could really carry a tune.”

“I know, right?” his sister agreed as she shot a strained cheery smile in his direction. The smile soon turned into a grin as twin blue eyes gleamed with mischief and suddenly they both burst out in song, dragging a tired laugh from Jack. “Hooligan tribe, won't you come out tonight come out tonight, come out tonight…”

“Well, I won't miss Dagur, that's for sure,” Hiccup grumbled under his breath and the brunet mumbled an agreement, his head resting against the Dragon Rider’s back as sleep tried to claim him yet Jack fought it with all his worth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was actually Chapter 5 of my original outline...which as you can tell, I did not stick to. Hope new and old readers appreciate the work that's gone in this and I'll see you next week!
> 
> Venting Once Again, Please Don't Read if You Don't Want to: so, lately I've been feeling depressed what with RL and all that. The job I use to love, I'm only tolerating now and don't have the drive to push myself to do better. I've thought about getting a new job, but the perks are good, not to mention I'm scared of leaving since this is my first real career job and I don't want to loss what I have to get an even worse job (my boss likes to tell me repeatedly how good I have it working for the company). However, the money isn't as good as I originally thought it was and I'm struggling to pay bills. Really, I'm at a loss in life and don't know what to do. I really don't have anyone to turn to other than my family, who I feel I'm a bit of a burden on right now, and the few friends I have are always busy nowadays with their new significate others and I'm feeling a bit lonely and left out. Sorry if I've made any of you depressed by reading about my depression, but I just need to get it off my chest. Thanks for listening/reading.


	31. Councils Meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank all of you who reviewed and gave advice about my last little rant, because I do believe it really helped me. I'm still at my job but I am actively looking for a new one, which will hopefully relieve some of the pressure I've been under. Thank you all so much and for your peace of mind, I'm not going to stop this story until I'm finished with it (thought updates my be a little late now that I don't have internet).
> 
> Also, Jack Frost created the legend of Jokul Frosti. He created his own legend. XP

Astrid circled around Berk for a final lap, or so she told herself as this was her fifth final lap. Not that Stormfly was complaining, on the contraire the Deadly Nadder was purring with delight underneath her. It had been too long since the last time they had been out flying for fun. What with everything going on, the Dragon Riders hadn’t had any time for themselves in between dealing with the Screaming Death, disappearing islands, forest fires, and their regular chores on top of that. Not to mention the whole debacle with Berserkers, Outcasts, and the Skrill that had barely been resolved last night.

For the first time in weeks Astrid had been able to sleep the whole night through without any worries to keep her up. Having woken up refreshed and in good spirits, the shieldmaiden effortlessly completed her chores – which she usually had to drag herself to do – in record time. That had left the whole day to do as she pleased and what she pleased was to take Stormfly out flying without having to patrol the waters for Outcast boats or looking for any dangerous dragons.

They could just fly for the sake of flying.

Stormfly gave a trill as they lapped the island again and continued on. This time though, instead of flying high in the clouds, Astrid had the Deadly Nadder descend to skim the waters below, following the coastline and cliffs around Berk. The thrill of weaving around the landmass and twisting through the sea stacks was a perfect way to wind down before heading back to the village.

As they passed some cliffs, Stormfly’s head perked up and she veered off closer to the cliffs. “What is it girl? Something wrong?”

The Deadly Nadder shook her head and chirped twice before reducing her speed as the dragon headed straight for the cliffs. Blue eyes swept the surroundings in an effort to find what her dragon already saw. It took her a few sweeps of the cliffs before Astrid was able to spot them on a low hanging cliff.

Hiccup, with his green shirt and brown fur vest blended in with the trees further behind him on a cursory search. Toothless had blended in too, since he was curled around the chief’s son and appeared to be taking a nap. Yet, it was the Night Fury’s tail flickering every now and again – producing a flash of red – which caught the shieldmaiden’s attention and gave away their location. If Toothless’s tail had been motionless, she wouldn’t have noticed either of them.

What got her though, was Hookfang laying down behind the two with Snotlout sitting to the side cleaning the Monstrous Nightmare’s scales with a brush. Barf and Belch were partly hidden by the forest, their long necks reaching upwards as they begged for treats from Tuffnut and Ruffnut who were hanging upside down in the trees. Fishlegs was there as well, standing off to the side with Meatlug, looking unsure of himself as the Gronckle ate the rocks at her rider’s feet.

Narrowing her eyes, the shieldmaiden allowed Stormfly free rein to flying closer. The Deadly Nadder was forced to circle the area once to find a suitable area to land near the edge of the cliff to touch down. Astrid saw Hiccup glance over at them briefly, yet he made no move to greet them.   Green eyes simple drifted back to stare off into the vast open ocean where the waters met the sky. Dismounting, she turned and scanned the Academy members with a critical eye.

“Did I forget a training exercise?” Astrid asked patting the Deadly Nadder on her nose horn absentmindedly. Stormfly purred in content, sitting down and twitching her head in an attempt to get her rider to scratch a particular spot under her chin.

“Not that I’m aware of. Me and Meatlug were flying to the Norther Mountains for some granite. She really like the rocks up there, they’re her favorite,” Fishlegs began to trail off topic, but a stern look from the shieldmaiden had him rubbing his hands together and returning to the prior topic. “Anyways, as we were flying by I saw the twins flying low to the water before landing up here. The others were already here and…uh…no one has told me what’s going on.”

Rolling her eyes, she glancing at Hiccup. “I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Giving Stormfly one final pat, Astrid strolled over to the auburn haired Dragon Rider and took a seat a little way over from him. Her legs hung over the side and swung them back and forth as she leaned back, arms braced behind her. Blue eyes caught Toothless opening one green eye, giving her a once over before closing it and returning to his nap. Together they sat watching the ocean, the only sounds coming from the water below crashing against the rocks and winds rustling through the trees. Then again, that could have been the twins jumping from tree branch to tree branch as their dragon chased them.

Her silence was rewards. “Did you know this is where Jackson came after I first met him?”

Astrid glanced over, blonde brows furrowed together but she didn’t say a word, waiting for him to go on.

“It was before he even came to the village, me and Toothless had gone to the cove and Jackson was already there fishing,” Hiccup answered the unasked question. “Toothless ate all his fish and then he yelled at me for letting him – like I could have stopped him – before storming away. After some of the accusations about starvation he threw my way, I followed him here to these cliffs to make sure he was alright.

“He didn’t even know who I was and everyone knows Stoick the Vast’s fishbone of a son,” Hiccup let out a forced self-deprecating laugh which earned him a slap in the leg from Toothless’s tail. Auburn hair shook back and forth before green eyes glanced up at the sky. “I should have realized it from his accent he wasn’t from around here.”

“Yeah, you should have. I’ve never heard anyone speak the way he does. It’s kinda of cute,” the shieldmaiden grinned, hiding it behind the back of her hand. She did wonder where her leader was going with this and what had Hiccup – of all people – in such a dark mood.

“Astrid, what do we actually know about Jackson? Not just the rumors, but what we actually know?” Hiccup asked, finally turning away from the ocean and looked over in her direction.

Astrid had to stopped and actually think to answer his question. “Well, Uncle Finn said he found Jackson being attacked by a pride of Changewings last winter and Grump saved him. Uncle then nursed him back to health.”

“He’s a Druid,” Snotlout grunted as he worked to pry the brush he was using out of the Monstrous Nightmare’s mouth. Hookfang let go a moment later sending his rider tumbling to the ground who proceeded to glare at the Stoker-class dragon.

“And a low level practitioner of magic! Though he can’t do much magic,” Tuffnut shouted out from the treetops.

“But he has a lot of magical knowledge,” Ruffnut continued, sitting on the opposing branch to her brother was currently hanging upside-down from, “and uses what he knows to tell great stories.”

“His family was killed by the magic hating king in his homelands,” Fishlegs volunteered, inching his way to stand behind the shieldmaiden.

“That’s just it,” the chief’s son shook his head. “His parents might have been killed by the king, but his sister wasn’t. She drowned in a lake and he almost did too, if Máni hadn’t have saved him.”

“What?” the shieldmaiden’s hands almost slipped out from under her, head snapping to the side to stare at Hiccup with wide unblinking blue eyes. She wanted to say more but for the first time in her life, Astrid was shocked beyond words.

She wasn’t the only one affected by the revelation. Tuffnut fell out of the tree, his only saving grace was Barf grabbing hold of his foot before he could fall on his head. Ruffnut would have followed her brother down, but Belch was quicker than his other head and kept her seated in the tree. Snotlout, on the other hand, had his legs giving out from under him and the brunet Viking fall on his ass, yet he made not a sound. The Monstrous Nightmare nudging him a few time and gave out a mournful yowl which had the burly Viking’s hand absently patting Hookfang on the snout.

“But…but…but Máni takes children,” Fishlegs stuttered, bracing himself against Meatlug to keep his trembling legs under him. “That can’t be. Jackson is still here, why would Máni save him if not to take him?”

Hiccup’s head drop and he shook his head slowly. “I don’t know and I don’t think Jackson does either. All he knows is that he’s in hi debt and one day Máni will collect.”

“How do you know this?” Astrid asked, hoping her voice wasn’t trembling as much as her arms were.

“He told me,” the teenager sighed running a hand through auburn hair, disheveling the locks more than they already were. “When he fell into the ocean, he relived it all again.”

“That’s why he went into shock,” Snotlout reasoned, coming to sit on the other side of his cousin. Hiccup glanced over at him and nodded his head once as an uneasy silence descended on the group, all buried within their own minds, deep in thought.

“He could be lying,” the Gronckle rider offered after a bit of time had gone by. It the wrong thing to say as all of the other Academy members’ head whipped towards him. Each giving Fishlegs a look that had the poor teen freezing on the spot. “What? I’m just saying, he could be lying; who of use has actually met a god or goddess for that matter?”

“We’ve met hamadryads,” Barf’s rider deadpanned.

“And Wyldfae,” Belch’s rider tacked on.

“All because of Jackson,” Snotlout finished, each of them defending the Druid.

“I’ve seen it.” Hiccup state as if it was a simple fact but in reality had all the Dragon Riders’ attention fixated solely on him once more. Waiting with baited breath for him to continue.

When he didn’t continue on his own accord, Astrid gently probed him to continue. “What do you mean, seen it?”

“I told you how we tricked Dagur in order to free the Skrill,” Hiccup sighed, looking back up at the sky at the lone cloud drifting across the bright blue background. “What I didn’t tell you was Jackson pretended to be Jokul Frosti to lure him into our trap. He…it…the moon came out through the clouds and it was no longer raining. It was _snowing_.

“The moonlight was _only_ illuminating Jackson and it was snowing. The whole thing was so surreal and I don’t know how to explain it. I think…I think it was Máni’s doing though. Showing that he was still watching and waiting to collect on the debt Jackson owes him.”

Another silence descended on the gathered Vikings. Astrid glanced to the others yet she wasn’t able to catch any of their eyes. The twins were busy staring at each other with desponded looks on their face; Tuffnut tilted his head to the side causing his sister to shake her head negatively. Snotlout was busy picking Monstrous Nightmare scales out of his brush, blue eyes glazed over to the point the shieldmaiden knew he wasn’t seeing what he was doing and was working automatically without conscious thought.

With Fishlegs busy wringing his hands together, Astrid knew it was up to her yet again. “So what are we going to do about it?”

“What can we do about it?” Hiccup countered, head hanging low.

“We could get him a wolf,” Ruffnut suggested causing everyone to look up at her in the tree. Seeing the surprised looks from everyone present but her brother, the blonde Viking rolled her eyes and snorted. “What? Everyone knows Máni is chased by the wolf Hati and his sister is chased by the wolf Sköll. So it would stand to reason if we get Jackson a wolf then Máni might be too scared to come and collect on the debt.”

“Great idea,” the Monstrous Nightmare snidely remarked, turned his body around – almost hitting Toothless’s tail with the brush in his hand – and glared at the Viking up in the tree. “Just one question, where are we going to get a wolf? _That won’t eat us?!_ ”

Fishlegs kept any quarrels from breaking between the twins Snotlout by voicing his own idea. “We could show Máni that Jackson belongs here and not on the moon.” When everyone turned to look in his direction with questioning looks, the heavy-set Viking looked down, wringing his hands together as he blurted out his reasoning. “It’s only speculation, but some believe Máni only took Hjúki and Bil from Viðfinnr because he was abusive and they had nowhere else to go.”

“Which is similar to Jackson situation,” Tuffnut spoke up as his sister and the brunet Viking persisted with glaring at one another.

The Gronckle rider shook his head. “Not really, Máni only took Hjúki and Bil to the moon because that was where they could be safe and despite the king of Jackson's homeland trying to kill his people, he still had a safe, loving family-”

A snort from Snotlout cut Fishlegs off. “I wouldn’t exactly say that.”

“What makes you say that?” Astrid asked, starting to realize she didn’t know much about the Druid at all.

“He’s always talking about his mother and sister but rarely does he say anything about his father if he can help it. Not to mention he is just out of reach of any adult males and is easily startled when someone touches him without him being aware,” the broad-shouldered Viking ticked off on his fingers and Astrid couldn’t keep herself from blinking rapidly at the amount of knowledge Snotlout possess through observations of all things. The startled look Hiccup shot his cousin let her know he hadn’t known that about Jackson either.

“Are…are you saying Jackson’s father ab-”

“I’m not saying anything Fishface,” Snotlout snapped, looking a little guilty he might have revealed something the Druid didn’t want to be known. “Just don’t go asking any questions about his father. He doesn’t respond well.”

“Um…okay?” Fishlegs rubbed his arm uncertainly. “Well… um… as I was saying… uh, we could show Máni that Jackson is safe and wanted here?”

“That just might work,” Astrid nodded her head before blue eyes narrowed as she rubbed her chin. “Even if Máni comes to collect on his debt, he wouldn’t take Jackson away from us if we could show that he is nothing like Hjúki and Bil.”

“But how?” the twins asked at the same time, genuinely curious about how they could help the Druid who was becoming a part of their little group.

“By being his friend,” Hiccup answered for them all.

* * *

“Hey Jackson,” Hiccup greeted the brunet as he entered the forge.

“How was your day?” Jack asked between a yawn as he set down the small pebbles he had been working on.

After the Lightning Rocks – as he started to refer to them as – had not only proven themselves but come in such handy the night before, he had gotten to work on making more. He was working on embedding the iron with stronger positive charges which would magnify when activated and draw the negatively charged lightning towards them instead of elsewhere.

However, as he worked he was hit by inspiration and he ended up trying to figure out a way to do the same concept with other materials instead of just iron. He also tried to figure out a way for the Lightning Rocks to hold more than one charge so they could be used a few times before disintegrating. So far, he hadn’t had any success with either concept.

“Interesting,” the Dragon Rider replied as he walked over and stood near the Druid’s workbench looking at the various items scattered around Jack.

“Interesting as in exciting and holding your attention or interesting as in ‘Oh Gods, oh Gods, we’re all going to die’?” the immortal teenager inquired as another pebble of iron became ash in his hands.

Frowning, Jack brushed his hands off and turned his full attention on the auburn haired teenager who was giving him a weird look. “Where do you come up with these things?”

“Here and there,” the brunet replied with a shrug. He couldn’t very well tell him he had watch a movie with Jamie about space cowboys hundreds of years in the future after all, the chief’s son would just think him crazy. Or ask him what a movie was, it was a seventy-thirty chase of either happening. “But that doesn’t answer the question.”

“A little bit of both,” Hiccup relented with an eye roll.

“Tell me about it, I need to live vicariously!” Jack all but pounced on him, laughing joyously as the Viking staggered under their combined weight and the two crashed down on the floor. The Guardian of Fun’s laughs grew louder and Hiccup found himself joining in on the contagious laughter. It took them a moment before Jack rolled of the Dragon Rider and sat up, both still chuckling slighting.

“What has gotten into you?” Hiccup asked once he got his laughter under control.

“I might of, kind of, am a little sleep deprived,” the ex-spirit answered honestly between chuckles, holding up his hand and pinching his thumb and forefinger together but not quite touching to show his level of sleep deprivation. Finally, when he was no longer suffering from his fit of laughter, Jack sat up and shuffled over to lean against his workbench.

Hiccup gave him a look he had seen on Sandy’s face a few times when the Dragon Rider sat up. It was the one the Guardian of Dream used when he was assessing the burnet’s condition. Though, usually Sandy was better at hiding the frown which was sure to come after such assessments of Jack than the Hiccup was.

“Jackson, when was the last time you slept?”

The immortal teenager had to stop and really think about the answer to the question which – even to him – was not a good sign. He knew he had tried to go to sleep a few times, but every time he closed his eyes, he was back in the lake with freezing waters surrounding him as he pounded at the ice’s surface desperately trying to break though. His lungs burned for oxygen whilst his limbs began to succumb to the cold and he found could no longer hold his breath any longer. In the end, the ex-spirit had decided sleep wasn’t worth jolting awake feeling like he was drowned all over again.

“Uh, the day before we found the Skrill in the block of ice,” he finally recalled with some certainty, the days seemed to run together due to lack of sleep.

“That was five days ago. Why would you do that to yourself?” Hiccup sounded pained as he spoke but after a cursory search, amber eyes didn’t find any injuries.

Jack could not bring himself to meet those vivid green eyes and shrugged his shoulders halfheartedly. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

The frown on Hiccup’s face deepened before he stood up and offered his hand to Jack. “Come on.”

Amber eyes looked at the hand and then at Hiccup’s face. “Where are we going?”

“To get you something to eat,” the Dragon Rider answered, leaning down and grabbed Jack around his arm, pulling him up with more strength then his deceptively small frame should have possessed. “I can’t make you sleep, but I can make sure you eat.”

“Please say we aren’t going to the Great Hall, the food there sucks. I would rather make my own,” Jack complained as he grabbed his staff resting up against a sport beam when they passed by on their way out the door.  

He immediately stopped when he spotted Toothless sitting out in front of the stall with a few fish dangling by their tails from his mouth. Next to the dragon stood Astrid with a bucket containing what looked to be pieces of raw chicken. On the Night Fury’s other side, Snotlout was busy trying to keep Hookfang away from a large basket full of even more fish. The twins’ arms were full with different leafy substances – some of which Jack could tell were uneatable – with dirt still clinging to the roots. As for Fishlegs, he was carrying a sack of his shoulders with vegetables sticking out.

Whirling around, he pointed accusingly at the sheepish looked Dragon Rider. “You had this planned!”

“ _We-ll_ ,” Hiccup drew out, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile on his face, “you do cook better than the rest of us.”

“And we don’t like our brother Norbert’s cooking either,” Tuffnut called out. “But he cooks better than Ma.”

“Yeah, that’s why Da sent him to cook in the Great Hall,” Ruffnut agreed.

“Remind me to never to eat over at your house if Nortber’s cooking is considered the best the Thorstons’ have to offer,” Fishlegs commented and the others nodded in absolute agreement.

Astrid took a step forward, hold out the bucket of chicken. “Cook for us?”

Jack looked them over, noticing all the hopeful looks, and rolled his eyes, taking the bucket from the shieldmaiden. “Fine, but where am I supposed to be doing this cooking?”

“Chief’s hut!” the twins shouted and high-fived each other. From the look on Hiccup’s face, that hadn’t been a part of his little scheme which made it the perfect place for him to cook.

“Sounds good to me,” Jack agreed shooting a grin of his own towards the two troublemakers, already heading in the general direction of Stoick the Vast’s hut.

“But my father-,” Hiccup started only to be cutoff by his cousin.

“Is going over strategies with the council at my house,” Snotlout informed everyone, picking up the basket of fish and following the Druid. Hookfang took to the sky and circling around his slower moving rider.

“So it’s decided then,” Astrid agreed, one a step behind Snotlout while her Deadly Nadder chose to walked beside her instead of taking to the skies.

“This is going to be so awesome,” Ruffnut cheered, dropping a few of the plants she was holding – completely oblivious to it – as she ran to catch up with the brunet.

“Yeah, just wait till Ma hears we had supper at the chief’s hut,” Tuffnut agree as he hitched a ride on Barf and Belch’s back to chase after his sister.

“Oh, this is so exciting, isn’t it Meatlug?” Fishlegs asked the Gronckle hovered behind him.

Hiccup knew when he was defeated and followed Toothless home.

* * *

Jack put the Dragon Riders to work since he was not about to be the only one cooking. Pointing to an empty pot, he sent Snotlout to retrieve fresh water while Astrid took the initiative to clean the eatable herbs the twins had picked. Ruffnut and Tuffnut were tasked with cutting up vegetable since there was no way they could mess that up even if they tried and Fishlegs was put in charge of watching the twins just in case.

Hiccup had the dirty job of gutting all the fish which Toothless attempted to assist by eating what was to be thrown out. He was foiled by his rider shooing him away. When he was finished with the fish, the chief’s son used some charcoal and paper to scratch out a quick note which Sharpshot was happy to deliver for him.

Soon the chief’s hut was filled to the brim with Academy member, large dragons – some of them perching on the roof due to the lack of space – a familiar flock of Terrible Terrors, Wyldfae, and one very busy Druid cook. Thankfully, there was more than enough food to feed an army and after Astrid and Fishlegs commandeered extra cooking pots from their huts, they had a literal feast. There was rosemary chicken and seasoned cod, cooked vegetables and fresh fruit, and with a little help from some Dewdrop Faerie, he had fresh bread ready in minutes instead of hours.

“It looks so good,” Astrid sniffed the air as Jack put the last bowl on the table.

“It smells even better,” Fishlegs salivated, looking at the table filled as a bit of droll dribbled down the corner of his mouth before he whipped it away.

“I can’t wait to eat,” Tuffnut cried out, all but launching himself at the table of food. However, before he could even touch a single dish, Jack’s staff came out of nowhere and hit him on his head.

“Not happening,” the Guardian put a halt to them moving towards the table causing the Dragon Riders to look at him. “First, we feed the dragons their dinner. Then we eat our own.”

“But…but…but…,” Ruffnut almost cried. Looking back at the table filled to the brim with food, tears welled up in her eyes.

“Your fearless leader has taken the initiative to put aside the unused fish guts to feed the dragons. Not to mention, he had Mulch and Bucket bring up a few louds of fish – and one load of granite rocks for Meatlug – for them. There’s a basket for each large dragon just outside and one for the Terrible Terrors to share,” the burnet waved towards the door, earning him a stunned look from Hiccup. Apparently, the chief’s son hadn’t known Jack was paying extra close attention to him since conning him into this mess.

Snotlout grabbed his cousin’s shoulder and looked him squarely in the eyes. “I never thought I would say this, but Hiccup, you are the best.”

With that, the broad-shouldered Viking was out the door screaming for Hookfang to get down off the roof so he could feed the ungrateful reptile thus making it possible for him to eat. It was no surprise he came running back in with his butt on fire. Fawn, thankfully, put it out with a cup of water. Other than that, there were no issues with feeding the dragons and they were heading back inside for their own meal within a few minutes. Though, Hiccup was stopped outside by the two fishermen.

“Uh, Hiccup, me and Bucket, we were wonderin’ since we hauled all those fish and rocks up here. Maybe, you could spare us some of that wonderfully smelling food?” Mulch asked wringing his hands together. The auburn haired teenager looked between the two and found he could not say no to the pitiful look on Bucket’s face.

“Come on in,” the teenager invited, holding the door opened for the two older Vikings. Astrid and Fishlegs were already handing out plates and silverware to the others and Hiccup retrieve a few extra settings for Mulch and Bucket who were still standing in the doorway.

“Mulch, look, there are the Wyldfae Jackson was telling us so much about,” Bucket said, waving at Silvermist who was shyly waving back. “Hi little Wyldfae.”

“You can see them too?” the shorter Viking asked eyes flickering from one ball of colored light to the next.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get use to them. They’re really friendly and helpful if you’re willing to trade,” Hiccup reassured him, handing the stunned Mulch a plate before handing the unfazed Viking his plate after he finished using his pinky to shake hands with Silvermist. “They must like you a little bit or else they all would have disappeared.”

“Well, if you’re sure. I mean the chief’s son wouldn’t steer me wrong now,” Mulch finally snapped out of his stupor and stepping all the way into the hut, heading for the divine smelling food. The auburn haired Dragon Rider right behind him, filing up his own plate.

Hiccup was just about to dig in when the door to the hut was thrown open and everyone looked to see the chief standing in the doorway with Spitelout, Gobber, and Finn behind him.

“What is going on here?” the chief asked eying the mass of people and creatures gathered in his hut.

“Uh…,” Hiccup stuttered not knowing what to say. This was the exact reason why he hadn’t wanted them to do the cooking at his house.

“It’s our first ever Dragon Training Academy Feast to celebrate our accomplishments with the dragons,” Astrid stepping in. “We thought you would be in the council meeting all night and didn’t want to disturbed any of you with an invitation. But we would be happy if you joined us chief.”

“Well,” Stoick said, clearly taken back and not sure what else to say.

“The foods really good too!” Tuffnut shouted out from the back, chewing on a chicken leg in pure bliss.

“Oh, all right,” the chief relented and allowed the Vikings behind him to stumble in.

“Just don’t mind the Wyldfae,” Ruffnut waved her chicken leg at the various balls of light happily feasting upon the food in various locations around the hut. The comment was more directed towards Snotlout’s father since he and Gobber hadn’t been introduced to the fae before and the blacksmith didn’t seem to be having a problem with them having already started regaling Periwinkle with a few of his tall tales. Spitelout, on the other hand, was stone still, not daring to move when Fawn darted around his head to avoid the man’s helmet and flew over to sit on his son’s shoulder.

Considering the circumstances though, the Vikings all had a good time. There was good company, fun anecdotes being told that had them all laughing, and to top it all off, the best food in all of Berk was being served. For once, it was a calm and peaceful evening for the Hairy Hooligan Tribe, something they hadn’t had in a long time.

“This is excellent. Who cooked?” Gobber asked, finishing off the last piece of bread.

“We all help, but Jackson was the one who really did all the cooking,” Hiccup answered when Jackson didn’t speak up.

“Well, where is he so I can thank him,” Stoick said looking around the heads sitting at the table and yet, there was a head of mess brown hair at the table.

Vivid green eyes also looked around the table, not being able to locate Jackson either. A nudge from behind him had Hiccup looking at Toothless who walked over to the corner where the Druid sat propped up against the wall with Sharpshot nestled in his arms and the other Terrible Terror along with a few Wyldfae circled around him, fast asleep.


	32. A Tale to Free Frustrations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember, this is not a romance story with adventure, but an adventure story with romance. Don't get me wrong, I love the fluff/smut/PWP , but there are a lot of those out there for HiJacks (still wish for more). However, there are not that many long stories which build up the relationship through prolonged interaction while overcoming their different backgrounds (and yeah, most of it is on Jack's side right now) instead of love at first sight kind of deal. That is what this story was for me.
> 
> Telidina: Jack is full of ANGST which gets worse this chapter (sorry) but that's because he spent 300 years alone and this is the first time people care enough to help him and he doesn't understand why they care.
> 
> Titania_queen_of_fairys: I am giddy that you picked up on the Gods/Immortals being fickle because their blessings are also curses - really Manny? 300 years of loneliness for immortality - and, though it hasn't come up yet, the Old Religion's balance and Jack's mortal life/immortality does play a factor. I adore that this story has made you think, even creating theories, about what's going to happen. Thank you for your long review, it was fun to read.

Finn was out in the field next to the hut the chief had kindly allowed him to have. It needing substantial repairs and improvements before the place was livable was not surprising since the hut had previously belonged to Mildew the Traitor and he much appreciated Gobber’s generous hospitality in allowing him stay with him and Jackson at the blacksmith’s hut while what would be his new home was under construction. After living in the newly repaired for little over a week, Finn was attempting to figure out what to do with the rotting cabbage left in the field.

Apparently, Mildew hadn’t harvested his cabbage before he defected to the Outcast Tribe and none of the villagers had seen fit to attend to the crop either. Now he had to deal with it since upon being granted the rights to the hut and surrounding land, the chief had stipulated the field had to either be cleared for use during the next season or to convert the land into a pasture. He was a hunter, not a farmer; he knew nothing about growing plants or raising yaks, but he did understand why the condition was put into place. A piece of land this large couldn’t go to waste and yet Finn couldn’t figure out what to do with the field either.

“I wouldn’t eat that if I were you,” Jackson’s familiar silvery tones called out as Finn sniffed the head of cabbage he was holding.

Looking up, the Viking saw the young boy making his way up the incline with a rowan bowl in one hand and his staff in the other. Sneaky – the little Terrible Terror his cute niece kept sending his way – being ever so conveniently perched on top of the staff’s crook.

“Laddie, what do I owe the pleasure of your presence today?” Finn smiled, throwing the cabbage up into the air causing the small dragon to launch himself off of Jackson’s staff. A moment later, the flaming husk of the rotten vegetable fell to the ground while Sneaky reappeared in brown locks of hair, singing happily at his accomplishment.

The Druid held up the bowl which was filled to the brim with food. “I brought you some food, just leftovers from the other night and a new bowl to make offerings to the Wyldfae.”

“That’s very kind of you,” the hunter said, leading them inside the hut. He was quite proud of how it had come out after all the work he had put in it, not to mention having to add on another room since Mildew hadn’t seen the need for storage space that the Hofferson definitely needed for his hunting and skinning equipment.

Jackson set the bowl down on the table and started to go through the cooking area looking for the plates. He had to use his staff to pull back the curtains on the shelves Finn had install with how high up they were, but the boy finally found the items he was searching for at a height he could reach. Setting the table for two plus a bowl for Sneak, the Druid divided up the contents of the rowan bowl onto the plates while Finn filled two mugs – one with mead and one with water – in a routine the two had created during the time they spent together over Devastating Winter.

“So, what’s the real reason you’re here, Laddie?” Finn asked after a few bites of the boy’s delicious food. Food he had begun to missing dearly now they were no longer living together and he’d been subjected to the gruel at the Great Hall. Blue eyes following the movement of as Jackson’s fork as he pushed the food around on his plate, not taking a single bite.

Jackson sighed and set the fork aside to rest his head on his hand. “Hiccup got hurt on our last search for the Screaming Death and everyone is worried about me.”

“And why were they worried about you?” the Viking asked in between bites of food that was washed down with a gulp of mead.

Amber eyes lowered to gaze at his plate while snow white teeth chewed nervously at his bottom lip. “We found a stranded Scauldron on Changewing Island and attempted to help her. There were a few problems, what with the dragon not trusting us enough to accept our help despite her wing being pinned under a pile of rocks, but Ruffnut was able to gain her trust all because she uses fish oil in her hair.

“We were able to clear the rocks off the Scauldron’s wing pretty easy with Ruffnut keeping her calm, but once the rocks were cleared Fishlegs noticed the wing was broken. Hiccup came up with the idea to make a splint and we were nearly finished with it when a pride of Changewings found us. Scauldy-”

“Scauldy?” Finn cut in having kept silent even though he had wanted to speak up and asked the boy how he was feeling after having another run in with a pride of Changewings. Yet, since Jackson’s voice hadn’t waivered while talking about the Mystery-class dragons nor did he show any signs of distress, the Viking was able to kept his tongue in check right up until the dragon’s name had come up.

“Ruffnut named her. Her first choice was ‘Please Don’t Kill Me’ and Tuffnut wanted to name her ‘Scalding Painful Death: The Dragon’,” the Druid explained with a slight grin and Finn briefly wondered if the young boy realized Sneaky had finished with his own food and had started to eat Jackson’s.

“Scauldy is a much better choice,” the hunter motioned for the brunet to continue. It also had the added bonus of scaring the Terrible Terror away from the brunet’s plate.

Jackson nodded his head in agreement and picked up where he had left off. “Anyways, the splint’s bindings broke in our haste to finish before the Changewings could reach us. Ruffnut was going to use to use her hair as the extra length we needed to tie off the binding – which was really noble of her – but I was already tearing up one of my arm warms into strips to use instead. Once the fix was in place, I assisted the twins in coaxing Scauldy back to the water when the Changewings attacked.

“One of the dragons targeted me first since I closest,” the burnet frowned and reached for his mug, picking it up yet he didn’t bring it to his lips. Instead, amber eyes glared at the water contained within the wooden walls, a vexed expression splashed across his face. “I could have gotten out of the way in time. I was already moving but Hiccup intercepted the dragon’s acid with his shield. Only since he was trying to protect me too, the shield didn’t cover his arm fully and the acid burned through his skin.”

There was a pause as the boy brought the mug to his lips and held it there.

“I don’t get it, Hiccup was the one hurt, but everyone is babying me. I don’t need to be babied,” Jackson softly voiced his frustrations, setting the mug back down a little harder than necessary. Finn knew from personal experience the brunet wasn’t mad or even angry at any of the young Vikings or the chief’s son in particular.

Jackson was upset with himself.

Hiccup had been hurt protecting him and he was feeling guilty. Finn gave the Druid some time to mull over his own thoughts and feelings while he finished eating the heavenly meal provided. Once he was finished, the blond pushed the boy’s plate of food back in front of him and gave him a pointed look when amber eyes glanced up.

Despite the fact Jackson had put some meat on his bones since coming to Berk, it was not nearly enough for Finn to be the least bit satisfied. The brunet was still skin and bones with a hint of meat under that cloak of his which wasn’t there before. Still, maybe he should have a talk with Gobber or even Hiccup – since the chief’s son seemed to have a better influence on the Druid then the blond blacksmith and apparently, the chief’s son was taking an interest in Jackson’s wellbeing from the sound of things – about getting Jackson to eat more.

When the brunet had eaten at least half of his meal – an improvement from last winter – Finn asked him a simple question. “Laddie, have you ever thought they aren’t babying you but are worried because they care?”

From the way Jackson froze up and his fork went clattering against the table, the Viking got the impression the thought had never crossed his mind. It also had Finn wondered just how long the Druid had been alone before Grump had rescued him from the pride of Changewings to have that kind of mindset. Not to mention it put some credibility to his little Lass’s speculations that the brunet’s father wasn’t worthy to be a blessed with a son like Jackson.

“Look, Laddie, of all of the Dragon Riders, you’re the only one unarmed and least protected.”

“ _But_ -!” Jackson started, standing up abruptly.

“Let me finish,” Finn didn’t shout, but his voice did have the brunet sitting back in his seat. “As I was saying, you’re the least protected of the Dragon Riders. My darling niece carries around the traditional Hofferson axe and wears her armored proudly. Though, I would be happier if she wore more armor than those shoulder pads and metal studded skirt of hers. Really, kids these days.”

Blue eyes caught the minuscule nod the Druid gave in agreement, though the quirk of his lips had Finn grinning. Obviously the lad was remembering how his little niece silenced quite a few of Vikings by reaching for that axe of her only the other day. The hunter had been so proud of Astrid in that instant when she’d finally been able to master that trick. His older brother had tried to teach him the intimidation tactic as well but he hadn’t perfected it to the point his little Lass had.   Then again, he hadn’t need to when he been ‘Fearless Finn Hofferson’.

Realizing he was getting lost in his own head, Finn shook the depressing thoughts out of his mind and focused on Jackson. “I know it might not look like it, but Fishlegs – like all those from the Ingerman line – wears armor underneath his fur tunic. Something Gobber reminded me of when he kept complaining about having to make a new set every two seasons because the lad keeps growing. In addition to the armor, he has that Gronckle Iron Sword of his too.

“Snotlout is the son of Spitelout, so he definitely cares around a number of sharp, pointy objects at any one time and his vest is reinforced with chainmail in the lining. As for the Thorston twins, they carry around a variety of weaponry depending on their mood and despite what they let people think, both are proficient in using them in battle. Hiccup – as you well know – carries around his shield for protection; moreover, he is the chief’s son and Gobber’s apprentice. He knows weapons better than most from crafting them and he’s learned tactics from his father since forever.

“Lastly, there’s you. Not a stitch of armor and you’re only weapon is a wooden staff that is nothing more than a twig that can easily be broken,” blue eyes focused on Jackson a moment too late to notice the cringe when he mentioned the gnarled piece of wood being broken. He did notice the Druid opening his mouth and it was not to take a bite of food. “Jackson, listen, I know you could have gotten away from the Changewing’s acid, I’ve seen your skills at evading and dodging and one Changewing wouldn’t have been a problem for you. Hiccup should have had more faith in your abilities.”

The bright smile on the brunet’s face made Finn smile as well. Jackson just seemed to have that sort of effect on people. If he was happy, he liked to share his happiness with others and no one seemed to be immune to the effect. On the other hand, if the boy was upset or angry, he would disappear to deal with the problem by himself. Finn was actually surprised the lad had come to him and it made the old hunter feel relieved Jackson trusted him enough to come to him with his problems.  

“However,” Finn continued on, knowing the brunet wasn’t going to like this next part but it needed to be said, “you need to understand that you’re not alone out there. The other Dragon Riders are right there next to you, they’ll have your back and will intervene if they think you’re in danger. Exactly like how I know you’d do the same given the opportunity. That’s what happened when you are a part of a team.”

As the hunter finished, Finn feared he had said something wrong when all the color the Druid had gained since coming to Berk drained from his face leaving behind deathly white pallor. Jackson didn’t even appear to be breathing which had the Viking pushing his chair out hastily, ready to jump across the table to aid the boy with whatever was ailing him. Sneaky beat him to it, appearing on top of brown locks and jolting the lad out of his state. Taking a gasp of air, grief-stricken eyes peered up at him with such heart wrenching looking that Finn didn’t think he could breathe.

“Team?” the word was spoken so softly that the hunter doubted his ears would have picked up the word if not for how still and quiet the hut had suddenly become. Finn couldn’t even hear the wind rustling around the hut at all and it was always rustling out near the cliffs.

“Yer a Dragon Rider, you are part of the team,” the Viking shrugged helplessly, not knowing how else to phrase it.

“But I don’t…I mean, Hiccup is the one that flies with Toothless, I just catch a ride,” the frail looking child stuttered and Finn knew his heart was breaking then, finally realizing what was going on.

Jackson didn’t feel like he was a part of the team. He was a foreigner, an outsider of the tribe and without a place to belong.

“Laddie, you’ve been involved with almost ever dragon related issue since coming to the village. Yer as much of a Dragon Rider as the rest of them, you don’t have to have a dragon to be one of them. Ye already are,” Finn explained and the crestfallen look on the boy’s face had an idea brewing in the back of his mind because it was clear to him Jackson didn’t believe a single word he said. “Stay here and eat your food, I have something to do real quickly. Sneaky, come here.”

The Viking left the boy to push his remaining food around his plate – he seriously doubted Jackson would eat any more in his current state – and walked over to the stack of items he had yet to unpack piled in the corner. Rummaging around in search for some parchment and the piece of charcoal he used to mark up the furs and leathers, Finn was relived to find he still had both and they weren’t lost in the move. He made out his request to the chief and prayed the man wouldn’t be too busy to read it. Another prayer to Odin had the hunter hoping Stoick the Vast would grant the request

Tying the rolled up letter to the Terrible Terror’s leg, he sent Sneaky off. In the meantime, Finn kept the lad busy by helping him organizing the pile he had been rummaging through only moments before. The brunet didn’t look happy about the task, but he didn’t refuse the request for his help either. Jackson rarely refused to help anyone when they asked, which made him really popular among the children when they needed assistance with their chores. Something he’d begun to expand to the older generations as well from what Finn had heard around the rumor mill; Jackson had a growing reputation that he didn’t even seem to be aware of.

A knock at the door had Finn excusing himself from the mess of items. He wasn’t surprised when he opened the door to find Hiccup standing there. He was taken back when his eyes landed on the large white bandages wrapped securely around the young Viking’s right arm since he hadn’t thought he’d been burned that badly. Behind him, the rest of the Dragon Riders and his little niece finished settling the dragon in before gathering behind their leader.

“Ah good, you’re here,” the hunter stated and moved out of the way, holding the door opened for the group to shuffle through. “Come on in. I’m sure you know why you’re here.”

Hiccup’s smile was strained as he walked inside only to pause briefly when vivid green eyes took notice of Jackson in the corner still going through the pile of stuff. The burnet appeared to be oblivious to the new arrivals until his darling niece spoke up, alerting the lad to their presence.

“Actually Uncle, Hiccup only told us that the chief wanted us to come here. We’re really not sure why,” Astrid said as she passed by the hunter to allow the twins through the door. They were followed by Fishlegs and then Snotlout. As the Dragon Riders came through, Finn noticed what little color had come back to Jackson’s face quickly vacated it once more.

“Ah, I guess he left it up to me to explain,” the hunter nodded his head and sat down at the table. “Laddie, come here, this involves you too.”

The others glanced around the hut to see what the leader had immediately taken noticed of upon entry, finally taking notice of the Druid sitting silently in the corner. Gracefully, Jackson stood up and collected his staff from the ground before joining them around the table. It was clear to Finn how things stood between the lad and the rest of the Academy members with how Jackson positioned himself near the group yet far enough away to make him appear separate. That was going to have to change.

“Now that you’re all here, I’ve got a training exercise for you approved by the chief,” Finn began keeping an eye on the lad. Jackson appeared to be disinterested, fiddling with the crystal hanging from his staff yet the hunter’s blue eye caught glimpses of amber as the brunet tried to hide his interest in what was going on.

“A training exercise? What sort of training exercise?” Tuffnut asked sounding a bit too forlorn at the prospect of work.

“A teamwork exercise,” the man answered looking squarely at the blond teenaged Viking who was smart enough to snap his mouth shut instead of making any further comments. “From what I’ve been hearing around the village and from some of you as well, your teamwork needs some improving.”

“Teamwork? But we work great together with the dragons, our teamwork is flawless,” Fishlegs pointed out, shuffling from foot to foot.

“And you would be correct, I’ve seen you and your dragons work flawlessly together. I haven’t seen you work flawlessly together with each other though,” Finn pointed out causing the Dragon Riders to exchange looks with one another. The hunter did not fail to notice that none of them looked in Jackson direction nor did he miss amber eyes dropping to the floor as shoulders slumped down. “This was why I asked the chief for permission to run you all through a few drills of my own. You’ll be split up into pairs to work with one another to complete a certain assignment of my choosing. In three days’ time, we will reconvene to see how far you’ve gotten. Any questions?”

“Yeah, I have a question,” Ruffnut called out, actually being polite and raising her hand. Finn nodded in her direction and she lowered her hand. “Can we pick the pairs?”

“No, and since you’re so eager to be sorted, I’ll start with you,” Finn said and nodded towards the male Thorston as well. “You two will be teamed up with Fishlegs to teach him how to use that Gronckle Iron Sword of his and don’t try to slack off. I know your sister Huffnut taught both of you how to use a sword properly and I’ll be having her stop in to check on the boy’s progress. So you better teach him right or you’ll both be the ones facing your sister’s wrath.”

“Yessir,” the twins said standing up straight and looking utterly terrified of the prospect of being subjected to Huffnut’s wrath.

“Fishlegs, you’ll be teaching them the importance of armor and how to take care of it,” the Viking directed hoping that by forcing an Ingerman – who were known for their armor – and the Thorstons – that were famous for their offensive capabilities – to work together, they could help each other compensate for their weaknesses.

The heavyset Viking nodded his head. “I can do that… I hope.”

“Lass, you and Snotlout will be working together and don’t give me that look Lass, I invented it. You two will be trading dragons and teach each other something new about Stormfly and Hookfang. The catch is you can’t talk to one another until two of the days are up. This way you what it’s like to climb a mountain in each other’s boots.”

“Fine,” Astrid grunted, folding her arms over her chest.

“Do I have to?” the burly brunet complained.

“Do you want to face Stoick and explain to him why you’re the only one not doing as you’re told?” the hunter countered, raising one blond eyebrow up into his bangs.

“No,” Snotlout glared at the shieldmaiden, mumbling something under his breath about having to ride a girly-dragon.

“Good, now Hiccup, that leaves you and Laddie as the last team. You’re going to teach him how to be a Dragon Rider,” Finn finished pairing the group off, quiet please with how both Hiccup and Jackson’s head shot up at the last announcement.

“Huh?”

“You’re going to teach him how to be a Dragon Rider,” the Hofferson explained to the flabbergasted teenager before turning to Jackson, “and Laddie, you’re going to teach him what it means to be a Druid. The goal of this exercise is to show each other a little bit of who you are and bond over your shared experiences. Got it? Good, now out you go. I expect you all back here on the morning three days from now, bright and early.”

Watching the group of teenagers leave his property, Finn turned and looks around his field. “Now what am I going to do about this field?”

* * *

“So,” Jack started as he headed back to the village on foot. The others had all taken their dragons back since it was much faster and he had thought he would be heading back alone. The ex-spirit had been wrong as Toothless landed right next to him and his rider dismounted to walk besides him. “Tomorrow then, we’ll meet up and we can go over things then.”

The immortal teenager tried to leave it at that, to walk away and allow the Dragon Rider to go about his own business. He didn’t get far with a hand wrapping around his wrist, keeping him in place. Jack turned to find Hiccup holding on to his wrist with his uninjured hand. Another pang of guilt shot straight to his heart at the sight of the bandages he had actively been avoiding looking at.

“Look Jackson, about yesterday,” the chief’s son attempted to bring up the Guardian’s failings.

“Hiccup,” the brunet sought to cut him off but the Dragon Rider wouldn’t have it and spoke over him.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes it was,” Jack snapped before the Dragon Rider could go any further, yanking his hand out of Hiccup’s hand and running it through his hair. Knowing he needed to calm down, the ex-spirit took a deep breath and dropped his chin to his chest, whispering so lowly he wouldn’t have thought the teenaged Viking could hear. “You got hurt protecting me.”

“And you got hurt protecting me after you dove into the well to rescue me when I was checking the well and the rope broke,” Hiccup gently reminded him placing his good hand on the concerned dragon’s head. “So we’re even.”

The Guardian shook his head, grip tightening on his staff. “It is not the same.”

“And how is it any different?” the chief’s son countered, not willing to let it go.

“It just is,” Jack said petulantly. He wasn’t about to say it was because he was a Guardian of Childhood and it was his job to protect children like Hiccup, that it shouldn’t have been the other way around. He shouldn’t have needed Hiccup’s protection, he should have the ability to protect himself, but he hadn’t been able to. The truth was, he wasn’t a Guardian here and that realization was finally sinking in. Without frost at his fingertips, he wasn’t anyone’s guardian but a liability.

“Jackson,” the auburn haired teenager sighed, taking a tentative step closer to the brunet. “I wasn’t trying to hurt your pride. I couldn’t bear to watch anything happen to you. In spite of everything-No, because of everything, you’re one of us.”

“Am I really?” the immortal teenager murmured, not realizing he spoken out loud. His mind drifting over his Guardianship or lack of therefore. Even in his own time, when he was a part of the Guardians and they were supposed to be a team, he had never truly felt like one of them. They were still referred to as the Big Four even though he had been a part of their team for a few years now.

Was Jack ever going to find a place where he truly belonged?


	33. Dragon Rider and Druid

Jack was abruptly pulled out of his thoughts by Hiccup grabbing hold of his wrist once more, tugging him along after the Dragon Rider. “Come on Jackson.”

“Huh…Wait! Where are we going?” the ex-spirit fumbled for his footing, almost stumbling over a rock as Hiccup determinedly pulled a very confused brunet with him.

The Head of the Dragon Training Academy dragged Jack right up alongside of Toothless – whose ear-plates were perked straight up and were looking at the two with his head cocked to the side – and pushed him towards the dragon. “As a Dragon Rider of Berk, the first thing you’ve got to know how to do is ride a dragon and we’re going to start now.”

“What?” amber eyes blinked rapidly with an otherwise blank look on his face.

“Finn said we are to show each other what it means to be a Dragon Rider and a Druid, we’re going to start now,” Hiccup patiently explained, giving Jack another nudge closer towards Toothless. The Night Fury, upon hearing his rider’s plan, stood straight up and moved to present his side to the brunet, making it easier for him to mount the dragon.

The auburn haired Viking waited for a minute, looking pointedly at Jack who finally sighed and he mounted the dragon. It felt weird sitting so far up in the saddle when he was usually sitting on the edge. Looking over at Hiccup, he found the teenager grinning at him. When he was sure Jack was comfortable, he motioned to the stirrups.

“Now first things first, you’ve got to secure your foot properly into the stirrup. It’s a might be a little uncomfortable since it’s made for my metal leg, but you should still be able to work the pulley system just fine,” Hiccup instructed and the weirdness the ex-spirit was feeling intensified as he endeavored to comply with the Viking’s teachings.

Jack manipulated his boots into the stirrups yet when he felt the pulley system shift as he tried to get situated, he froze. Eyes snapped down to the metal stirrup believing he had done something wrong, breaking it somehow. When nothing happened and Hiccup not saying anything, the Druid shifted again until he final got his foot situated comfortably.  

“Okay, now what?” the brunet looked up, amber eyes staring straight into vivid green as he waiting for further instructions from the Head of the Academy.

“Now we fly,” Hiccup grinned climbing on behind Jack which had the Druid’s body going rigid. After a moment, he convinced himself to relax and had only started to unwind only for thin arms wrapped around his waist. The ex-spirit was proud of himself when he didn’t tense up again, he couldn’t control his respiratory rate however, and his breathing increase.

“Right… um,” Jack glanced down at his staff in his hand and look around for a place to put it. Hiccup usually strapped his shield to the saddlebag, but the Druid didn’t know if the gnarled piece of wood would stay put or be lost which was not an option. Brown eyebrows furrowed together as an idea came to mind. Taking the staff, he angled it down diagonally through the neck of his cloak and down his back where he made sure it went between the straps to his pouches to secure the crook. Hesitantly, he let go and felt his worry drain away when the gnarled piece of wood didn’t budge.

Once he had his hands free to grip the saddle, Hiccup proceeded to talk him through the process of taking off. He took the extra time to explain the different gears, how they controlled the mechanize attached to the red tailfin, and when it was best to shifted to certain gears. By the time the first lesson was over, Jack had been able to successfully have Toothless take off and land without difficulty and they were working on gliding when dusk crept up on them.

“That was fun,” the ex-spirit admitted as he landed Toothless near the edge of the forest. There was definitely something about sitting in front as they flew that had him feeling like he was at home in the skies, regardless that it was Toothless who was doing most of the work. It was the closest he’d been to the flying he’d done on a regular basis in the future and while he’d accompanied Hiccup on various flights, he had little to no control. This though, this made Jack feel lighter than he had in sometime.

“We’ll make a Dragon Rider out of you yet. That was pretty good for your first time,” the Viking gave him an encouraging smile as he dismounted and moved back to allow the brunet enough room to swing himself off of the Night Fury’s back.

“Thanks,” Jack ducked his head to hide the flush on his face, concealing the action by pulling his staff out from behind him. Stretching out, he turned to see Hiccup looking towards the village and an impish grin tugged at the corner of the eternal teenager’s lips. Catching the back of the Dragon Rider’s vest with the crook of his staff, the Druid yanked the teen back towards him. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“To bed?” Hiccup asked more than answered.

“Nope!” the taller teenager all but sang. “You taught me how to be a Dragon Rider and now it’s my turn to teach you to be a Druid.”

“We still have tomorrow.”

“But tonight’s the full moon,” Jack looked up at the _Moon Clipper_ peeking out from behind a few cumulous clouds, missing both dragon and the Dragon Rider tensing, “and tonight the forest will be brimming with _life_. We need to get a move on if we want to see everything. The fun’s just beginning.”

The wind picked up, blowing the cumulous clouds out of the way to allow the moon’s light to stream through and illuminate the area growing dark due to the fading sunlight. Grinning, the brunet nudged Hiccup in the side with the end of his staff before lightly tapping Toothless on the head and taking off into the forest. A startled cry of his name had Jack laughing and picking up his pace. He could hear the Night Fury and his rider having a bit of trouble keeping up with him on foot. However, when the noise Hiccup and Toothless were making became hard to hear, the eternal teenager slowed down.

A low hanging branch gathered his attention which had him reaching up with his staff. The hook caught the limb and with a little extra effort, Jack swung up to grab the branch with his free hand. He pulled himself up and made himself comfortable, swinging his legs back and forth as he waited. It took them a few minutes but Hiccup and Toothless managed to stumble into the clearing with the dragon leading the way.

“Gotta try a bit harder than that to keep up,” Jack called down causing two sets of green eyes to shoot upward. The Druid grinned and waved, catching their attention before bouncing to his feet and continuing on his way through the forest using a faster – albeit more dangerous – route. The winds aided him in keeping his balance as he traveled through treetops and across branches, making sure he traveled slow enough that he was always in Hiccup’s direct line of sight.

As he sprang from one tree to the next, a tall tree in the middle of brunt forest caught his attention and had him changing his route. Some ways in he was forced to drop to the ground due to the brunt tree husks incapable of supporting his weight. Once back on the ground, Toothless quickly caught up with Jack’s slower pace and slowed him down even more, giving Hiccup time to draw alongside the brunet.

Jack held up his hand, stopping the Night Fury and his rider in their tracks. The Druid then carefully made his way over and stopped before the slightly burnt tree. Despite being chard and covered in a layer of soot, there was a lot of new growth around the tops, showing the tree hadn’t been too badly damaged during the forest fire.

“This is a hamadryad,” Jack informed the Dragon Rider, rapping his knuckles on the bark of the trunk in a tattoo. “She’s still relatively young and was burnt during the forest fire, but she’s resilient with strong roots. Those roots will carry on spreading through this land, providing the saplings around here with the life force needed to grow big and strong.”

“How do you know?” Hiccup asked studying the tree, not seeing anything different between it and any of the other burnt husks in the area.

“Look again,” the burnet swept his arm around towards surrounding greenery.

Jack doubted the chief’s son saw the forest the same way he saw the nature wildlife all around them. To amber eyes everything was brimming with life, pure despite being touched by the flames of the wildfires. His eyes were drawn to the new growth at the edge of the clearing just now starting to sprout through the darken ground. As his gaze was drawn back towards the hamadryad, the nearer the plants were to the tree, the taller and more vibrant the foliage was.

“This tree is in the middle of the damaged area and the older trees around it are stilled chard with very few new leaves growing from them. This tree, however, is blackened yet, as you can see, there is more new growth on it than any other tree here. Also, look around the base, there is an abundance of new life sprouting around the roots. These are all common signs that a hamadryad has allowed herself to take root.

“Isn’t that right, beautiful?” the ex-spirit asked patting the trunk adoringly. Amber eyes caught the stunned expression on Hiccup’s face when the branch above Jack seemed to move on its own accord and ruffle the brunet’s hair. The grass around the roots seemed to stretch out even further while flowers began to grow and bloom in a matter of minutes. The trunk of the tree contorted and for a brief moment a woman’s face and upper body protruded out of the trunk before retreating back into the bark. “That’s enough showing off beautiful, save some of that energy for the winter months; you’re going to need it to help bring back this part of the forest when spring comes.”

The unnaturally speedy growth slowed and came to a stop, but not before producing a beautiful black flower with hints of blue inside and blood red tipped pedals right in front of Hiccup. It was unlike anything either of the teenagers had ever seen before. Jack wanted to take a step closer to get a better look but the Dragon Rider was already kneeling down in front of the flower. Toothless was right behind him, sniffing the flower but neither Dragon Rider nor dragon touched the flower.

Hearing a whisper from the winds, Jack turned to see the hamadryad once again emerging from the trunk for the briefest of moments. The winds twirling around her tree before encompassing him, passing along the message he had not heard. He smiled upon hearing the wind’s translation and turned towards the true recipient of the hamadryad’s unheard words.

Hiccup startled upon hearing the silvery tones of the brunet’s voice, having been transfixed by the flower. “The hamadryad made it for you. As a token of appreciation for saving her and the rest of the forest. Go on, take it, she wants you to have it.”

“What kind of flower is it?” the Dragon Rider asked, looking back over at the flower.

Jack tilted his head and let the wind translate the tree’s response. “She created it for you, says you can name it whatever you like. Though, in my personal opinion, it does hold a fair resemblance to a lily.”

“How about naming it a Night Fury Lily then? It kinda reminds me of Toothless,” Hiccup answered after examining the flower. Then, gently as possible he picked the flower, pulling it up by the roots. When the roots hit the air, they shriveled up and fell to the ground in little clumps leaving behind only the flower and its stem. Upon closer inspection of the remains of the roots, it was revealed they were actually seeds which the auburn haired teen collected as well at the Druid’s insistence they too were for him.

“I like it and so does she,” the brunet agreed chuckling as another branch brushed through his hair. “Anyways, Hamadryads are Creatures of Magic, specifically earth magic which means they are all about life and fertility. If you remember, there are a few trees up in the Norther Mountains at Finn’s old home. They are just hamadryad saplings right now but when they’re strong enough, they’ll move into the forest to help this hamadryad here to keep the forest alive and overflowing with magic.”

“So the hamadryads are keeping Berk’s forest alive?” Hiccup asked, safely tucking the newly named Night Fury Lily and the seeds into Toothless’s saddlebag before joining Jack by the tree. At the Druid’s nod, the chief’s son glanced at the tree and cautiously laid his hand on the bark. “Um, thank you for all you have done for the forest, we really appreciate it.”

There was a moment of silence as the wind raced around the clearing before a branch swept through auburn hair. One of the twigs tangling in his hair, but Hiccup didn’t seem to care. He gave the tree once last pat and reached up to untangle his hair. Jack didn’t miss the way the Dragon Rider winced at the movement and batted the hands to the side to disentangle the twig. Once Hiccup was free, the eternal teenager took a step back, his hand latching on to the green fabric of a sleeve and tugged.

“Come on, there’s more I want to show you,” the ex-spirit led them deeper into the forest.

It took him a little time but eventually he found what he was looking for. Well, more precisely, he heard the babbling of water and followed the sound to its source. It wasn’t exactly where he intended to go, but where they wound up was a small brook lined on either side with large green bushes bearing fruit and lush wild herbs growing in between rocks. It wasn’t a place he had been before, but Jack would have to mark it down as a good place to collect herbs in the future.

“What’s so special here?” Hiccup asked looking in to the clear crisp water and at the sparkling rocks below. The Nigh Fury leaned over and sniffed the water, an ear-plate cocking to the side before he sat down at the water’s edge, looking down as if he was waiting for something.

“Stick your arm in there,” the brunet instructed and received a weird look for his troubles from the Viking. Rolling his eyes, Jack pointed his staff at the water – the little crystal attacked inches away from the babbling brook’s surface – then at the Dragon Rider’s injured arm. “Arm in water, trust me on this.”

Hiccup gave him a crooked smiled and responded with no hesitation despite the rhetorical nature of the statement. “I do; trust you that is.”

The trust the Viking showed him had Jack at a lost as the chief’s son submerged his whole arm into the brook with no hesitation. A gasp came from the shorter teenager as the water seeped into the bandages and amber eyes watched as it looked like something was being drawn out of the limb, tainting the water briefly before being washed away downstream. Even the grunge from the bandages was pulled away, leaving behind pristine white cloth.

Toothless let out a soft curious sounding noise as he leaned forward, sniffing at the brook as a bubble of water floated to the top. Hiccup’s eyes were drawn to the bubble and he almost stumbled back when he was confronted with a face in the water. Yet, the only reason he didn’t fall on his ass was because of whatever had a grip on his arm kept him where he was.

Jack fought – and failed – to keep his chuckles to himself.

“Villas are Creatures of Magic too, only they deal with water base magic due to them being spirits of brooks and streams. They have excellent healing capabilities and defensive magics just like the other Creatures of Magic associated with the element water,” after his explanation, the Druid turned his attention from the Dragon Rider to the face in the water. “Thank you for healing him by the way.”

“You’re welcome, we are in your debt, it was the least we could do,” the Villas said as more bubbles began to appear in the brook. Toothless’s eyes darted from one to the next, settling on the one closest to him. Cautiously, the Night Fury reached out one of his paws and batted at the bubble, drawing his paw back to his body just as quickly as he had lashed out. A jet of water sprayed him in the face in retaliation and this time, Jack didn’t bother holding back his laughter.

His chuckles trailed off when he noticed Hiccup giving him a strange look which had the brunet answering the unspoken question. “I helped them some time ago and they’re replaying the favor. Take a look at your arm.”

Frowning, the chief’s son pulled his arm from the brook and undid the soaking wet bandages. Vivid green eyes went impossibly widen as his jaw dropped when unblemished skin was revealed where there had been blood and infection only a couple of hours previous. Gothi hadn’t had much hope when the would showed signs of infection after he’d first had gone to the healer and she feared they might have to cut off the limb if the infection continued to spread. However, now it looked like the Changewing’s acid had never touched his skin, not even a scar remained.

“That’s amazing,” the Viking breathed out running his hand over the soft skin, noticing that the small burn mark he’d received on his first day as Gobber’s apprentice was gone as well.

“Magically Creatures usually are,” Jack shrugged, taking a cloth out of his leg pouch and began drying off Toothless’s head with it. The dragon was completely drenched now because of his little battle with a few of the young Villas had gotten out of hand while Hiccup had been distracted. “Hamadryads and Villas are only two species of Magical Creatures here on Berk and there are so many more. Not just in the archipelago, but all over the world, so many different species, different types and each associated with one or even multiple elements.

“Magical Creatures of Fire have only a very select few species within their group compared to the other element classifications. After seeing just how many different subspecies of dragons there are though, it’s beginning to make sense to me why there are so few other Creatures of Magic which are classified under fire. Before, some Druid clans believed that those associated with the element were the most destructive type of Creature of Magic and that was why there were so few fire creatures, to keep from disturbing the Balance.

“However, I’ve always held the belief Magical Creatures of Fire have little to do with destruction and chaos but more to do with protection and creation,” the ex-spirit trailed off when he finished drying Toothless off who crooned in appreciation and rubbed his head against the brunet’s stomach. Seeing the dragon before him, Jack couldn’t understand how anyone thought they were destruction and chaos incarnate.

“What about wind?” Hiccup inquired about the last element.

Jack creased his petting of Toothless to really think about the answer. “I know there’s some, but I don’t know many Creatures of Magic associated with the wind. Well, there is the Sisterhood of Flight, but I haven’t seen met them,” which wasn’t exactly true since Toothina was the last Sisterhood of Flight but she tended to associate herself more with being the Guardian of Memories than being a part of the Sisterhood, “oh, and griffins. Griffins are Magical Creatures of Wind.”

“And what are they associated with?”

“Usually, adaptation and vitality,” the ex-spirit answered eyes sparkling as the wind twirled around them and tugged on his clothing, telling at him to add all sorts of things on why it was the best element. “And maybe a little bit of unpredictable.”

“Just like the wind,” the Dragon Rider sniggered, having to shield his eyes from the spray of water the wind had unintentionally blew in his face.

“Just like the wind,” Jack agreed before clapping his hands and rubbing them together. “Okay, so where shall we go next? You’ve already met the Wyldfae, the hamadryads, and the Villas. I’m pretty sure there are a few nymphs around Berk, but I haven’t come across any of them yet. Hmm…what else, what else?”

“Child, before you leave there is one last thing we wish to ask,” the Villas spoke up drawing three pairs of eyes back to the faces in the water. The eternal teenager blinked a few times having thought they had already left like they had done last time.

“What is it?” Jack leaned over, amber eyes finding the face he was most familiar with and looked there for answers.

The Villas began to swirl around, forming a circle as an image of Berk’s harbors took shape. “There is a water creature which has entered the oceans surrounding us, she wishes to stay here. She says her name is Scauldy.”

To prove their claims, the image in the water showed a long thin neck emerging from the ocean with a large slender head, the bottom jaw having a sort of pouch hanging from the dragon’s chin. As they watched, the massive green dragon crawled up the beach on four stubby legs disproportionate to her large body and even bigger wings, one of which was in a makeshift sling. Her fishlike tail making a splash as she left the water completely while she raised her head and the nostrils on either side of her horned nose flared out, sniffing the air.

The imaged faded out along as the faces started to fade away, save for one. “Please take care of her.”

“What are we going to do with a Scauldron around here?” Hiccup asked but the Villas were already gone. The chief’s son groaned and looked in the direction of what Jack could only assume was the beach in the image they’d been shown. Toothless let out a warble, glancing from the brook to the brunet to land on his rider where acid green eyes stay.

“I have an idea,” Jack grinned.

* * *

The next morning, Hiccup joined the Druid sitting on top of the cliffs overlooking the docks to watch their work from the night before come into play. Jack had to stifle a yawn as they waited, wishing they hadn’t had to get up so early after their long night. Still, he was eager for the day ahead. They were going to continue where they had left off the day before in their Druid and Dragon Rider lessons.

Jack couldn’t wait to fly Toothless again. He was also looking forwards to show the Viking more about the magical side of Berk. Some of the Dewdrop Faeries even volunteering to help when he asked if there were any places he should show the chief’s son.

His mental planning on what they were going to do for the day was put on hold when the brunet spotted a short stubby Viking dragging a large mass of nets down the slope to the docks. A bubble of excitement had all traced of sleepiness gone as his anticipation built. Nudging Hiccup in the side, the Dragon Rider about came out of his skin when he jerked up, having started to doze off, and looked over at Jack with the most adorable sleepiness lingering in vivid green eyes. Amber eyes sparkled with life as he used his staff to gesture to the docks below. Their morning show was about to begin.

“ _MULCH!_ ” Bucket yelled as the shorter fisherman hobbled over the uneven road to the docks. His loud voice easily heard regardless of the distance between the fishermen and the two teenagers.

“I’m coming Bucket, I’m coming. What’s all the ruckus about?” Mulch huffed out, having troubled dragging the nets, and though his voice was lower than the blond Viking, it was loud enough for Hiccup and Jack hear with the assistance of the winds. The short Fisherman stumbled as he walked backwards, over the uneven wooden docks but he didn’t fall. Instead, he left the nets where they were and whipped the sweat from his face.

The eternal teenager was almost bouncing where he sat when Mulch began to turn around and bit his tongue to keep from bursting out in laughter. Besides him, Hiccup snorted when the Viking did fall on his ass this time after coming face to face with Scauldy.

“Look what Hiccup and Jackson got me! Me very own dragon,” Bucket exuberantly babbled as he petted the head of a Scauldron coming out of the water. “They remembered I wanted one when we brought back the Skrill and they got me one. Her name’s Scauldy and she such a good dragon. Yes she is, she’s going to help us with our fishing and we are going to feed her and play with her. We’ll take such good care of her, won’t we Mulch?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was fun, hopefully it makes up for the angst in the last.


	34. Lessons for Two Dragon Riders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter on schedule, yeah for me. 
> 
> I would just like to point out that I do research the Viking and Druid cultures to get them at least some what close to what they were most likely like in history. Although, there are some thing which HTTYD has shown which isn't historically true - cough Viking Helmets cough - and then there are the few liberties I do take - Druid's actually were very big on human sacrificing, which yeah, I'm not going to do - for creative licensing purposes. As for the magic aspects, a lot of you've figured it out, but it is a mix of Merlin, Dresden Files, and a little pinch of Harry Potter thrown in with a dash of mythology and legends. I must admit, I like staying true to real historical aspects when it suits me, if not, it's thrown out the window. XP
> 
> Very glad you all liked Hiccup and Jack's bounding time with the magic thrown. It seemed appropriate to me that Hiccup starts to see Jack in a different light while magic was surrounding them.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the last.

"Impressive," Finn commented after going three rounds with Fishlegs. The younger Viking had lost all three rounds, however, he had the basics down and he didn't loss his hold on his sword even once. That was more than could be said two days ago. His footwork needed vast improvement – which was the reason he had lost all three rounds – but he had managed to block the majority of Finn's attacks.

More impressive was that the boy had not stayed on the defensive completely and had dealt a few poorly executed attacks of his own. The first time Fishlegs had attack, Finn was stunned and hadn’t been properly prepared. Not that the boy had gotten a hit in, the hunter had moved out of the way instead of parrying the blow like he should have done. Overall, the twins had engrained the very basics of swordsmanship in Fishlegs, giving him a good foundation to work off of if he ever wanted to continue on and learn how to correctly wield that Gronckle Iron Sword of his.

Holding a hand out to the heavyset teenager, Finn helped the boy up. The smile on the young Viking face from the simple comment was blinding but looked good on him. Fishlegs desperately needed a confidence boast and with the Academy members clapping – the twins’ cheers and applause the loudest of them all – behind them, it was good for the boy’s fragile ego.

"Thank you, the twins are actually pretty good teachers,” the heavyset teenager admitted, green eyes glancing over at the two blondes that had gone from clapping for their trainee to fighting with each other over who’d taught Fishlegs what. “I didn't realize that they knew so many different styles of sword fighting. Usually they just swing their swords around wildly and, I... uh... didn't think they could actually fight."

"Thorstons are known for their swordsmanship. However, I can understand your confusion. From what I can tell, the twins take after their mother more than their father. They tend to be more incline to the chaotic and scatterbrained side than the tacticians of their ancestors, but don't let that fool you. They are still Thorstons and know how to weld a sword," Finn explained glancing at the twins whose fight had now come to blows. "Now, Tuffnut, Ruffnut, what have you two learned?"

The two immediately stopped fighting where they stood with Tuffnut’s right arm wrenched backwards around his neck due to his wrist being held in his sister hand. Ruffnut’s other hand was frozen against her brother’s face while her teeth were currently halfway sunk into the arm protector currently around her neck. The two – when the saw all eyes on them – quickly disentangled themselves from each other and stood up straight as if they hadn’t been doing anything wrong moments prior.

“Um? What was the question?”

Sharing a looked with Fishlegs, Finn answered Tuffnut. “What have you learned about armor from Fishlegs?”

"This stuff is amazing!" Ruffnut broke into a grin, holding up her arms to show off the new dark-blue, violet, and light brown cloth bracers that started at her elbows and wrapped around her whole arm to end at her wrists. “There’s metal weavings inside that make my punches stronger.”

"It's spiky and dangerous all at once!" the blond flexing his bicep to flaunt the leather armband adorned with metal cone spikes every few inches. "Gobber is even going to make spikes for my boots with matching arm bracers too!"

Fishlegs shoulders slumped down and then he looked at Finn with a helpless look. "I did my best to teach them about armor, but... uh... it didn't quite go as plan. They wouldn't sit still long enough to listen to any of my explanations. I thought taking them to Gobber's shop to see some of the armor he makes for my family might get them interested, but instead Gobber regaled us all with stories of the various armor he made while he worked. That's the best I could do."

"You did well," the hunter corrected, nodding towards Tuffnut showing Snotlout how sharp the spikes really were. "You got them interested in armorer and that is the best I could hope for. Tuffnut just didn't order new boots with spike from Gobber. Both of them ordered a full set of chainmail to line their tunics with and a few pieces of metal plating to be sewn into their clothing over vital areas."

"Really?" the young Viking perked up and looked over at the two with wide eyes. "I... I didn't know that I got through to them."

"Well you did, good job," Finn slapped Fishlegs on the shoulder and shoving him back towards the sidelines and motioning to the next group to come up. "Alright, Lass, Snotlout, you're up next."

"Right," Snotlout strolled forward with a confident gait, though the confidence soon melted away as blue eyes began to look around. "Ah, where are the dragons?"

The comment had everyone looking behind them and around the area where the dragons had been during the beginning of Fishlegs and Finn’s little exhibition. Toothless was still seated between his rider and Jackson while Meatlug was happily munching on a few rocks. However, the other dragons were nowhere to be seen and none of them had noticed the dragons leaving either.

“They didn’t fly away, we would have noticed,” Astrid pointed out logically, eyes darting up to the cloudy sky above fleetingly.

"Toothless and Meatlug are still here," Hiccup frowned, vivid green eyes looking up at the hut to see if the missing dragon might have climbed up the structure for some reason.

A roar from the field behind the hut had the group focusing in that direction.

"I'm no expert, but I'd say that way," Jackson commented making his way around the wooden structure.

The rest of group followed behind him as the sounds of various different growling dragons peppered the air. The group found the missing dragons in Finn’s half plowed field but more worrying than them wondering off in the first place was that they were fighting. Before could come out of their shock and take in the sight of the quarreling dragons, an aqua green Terrible Terror was smacked out of the fray by Hookfang's tail. The little dragon was knocked unconscious from the blow and was sent sailing.

"Toothless, catch!" Hiccup yelled when he saw the Terrible Terror’s trajectory was heading over the steep cliffs side. A darker Terrible Terror soon followed courtesy of Stormfly's wing in the opposite direction. "Jackson!"

"On it," the Druid was already in motion, jumping onto a covered barrel of rotten cabbage and using it to propel himself high enough to catch Sharpshot in his arms. He landed in a crouch and uncrossed his arms to check on the little dragon.

Sharpshot's eyes sprang open, revealing mere slits. An angry growl escaped the little dragon which tapered off. The Terrible Terror blinked a few times, pupils expanded and returning to normal before Sharpshot looked around, seemingly confused at where he was. When he caught sight of the Druid, the green dragon launched himself at Jackson’s neck, cooing. The brunet laughed and attempted to pried Sharpshot away from his neck.

"We're okay here," he shouted to the Vikings.

Sighing in relief, Hiccup turned towards the edge of the cliff where the Night Fury struggled with his Terrible Terror. "Toothless?"

A distorted growl came from the black dragon due to Sneaky being held in his mouth. The aqua Terrible Terror was hissing and squirming wildly around, making it difficult for Toothless to keep hold of the dragon. Yet, once Jackson took Sneaky from the Night Fury, the little dragon appeared to calm down and launched himself onto the other side of the Druid's neck not occupied by Sharpshot.

From the expression on his face, the brunet looked like he would rather have left Sneaky with Toothless. A growl from the Night Fury and a slow of plasma building up in his mouth had both Terrible Terrors squeaking. As one they detached themselves from Jackson’s neck and bolted into the air. The two Terrible Terrors circled around before landing on the crook of the Druid’s staff. Safely out of Toothless's reach but still close to Jackson.

While Toothless and Jackson were busy rescuing the Terrible Terror, the larger dragons were continued with their assault on one another. Hookfang launched a gigantic wave of flames at Stormfly that the Deadly Nadder avoided by taking to the sky. From her new vantage point, the Sharp-class dragon hurled magnesium fire at Barf and Belch.

The Hideous Zippleback protected himself by releasing a cloud of gas that was ignited by the income flames creating a wall of flames surround two-headed dragon but doing no harm. Barf’s head lashed out of the wall of flames, latching onto the Deadly Nadder’s paw as she flew overhead and yanked her down. Belch tried to grab on to her as well, but the second headed had to retreat from a flame covered Hookfang.

Claws and teeth tore at scales as the three dragons fought in close combat. A screeching from one of them – and no one could tell which one by this time – had them separated yet none were backing down. The trio dragons circled, eyes darting back and forth between each other, but none would move in. All three hissing and growling, doing their best to get the others to back down despite not wanting to back off themselves.

Taking the opportunity presented to them, the Dragon Riders moving towards their respective dragons’ sides in an attempted put an end to the feud.

“Stormfly, calm down! It's me! Everything is okay!” Astrid was the first to reach one of the three dragon seeing how the Deadly Nadder was closest.

The shieldmaiden fearlessly reached a hand out to touch the light blue scale. Astrid had to duck out of the way as the Sharp-class dragon lunged forward to snap at Hookfang else she be knocked out by Stormfly’s tail. Covering her head, the blonde waited in trepidation until she heard the dragons moving away. Only then did she stand up, blue eyes forlorn as the hissing Deadly Nadder ignored her presence and wondered what was going on to cause all this. If she knew, maybe she could get her Stormfly back.

Tuffnut and Ruffnut did not have any better luck with the Hideous Zippleback. They attempted to gain Barf and Belch’s attention by offering the dragon some of the few heads of rotten cabbage which still lingered in the field Finn had labored to clear. However, the two heads paid them no attention and the blondes were flung back in different directions when twin tails caught Ruffnut in her midsection first and then Tuffnut as the tails whipped back around.

Hiccup had to dive forward and pinned Ruffnut to the ground to keep her from becoming firewood for a Monstrous Nightmare’s flame and hadn’t bore witness to the other Thorston being flung in the opposite direction which so happened to be where there was a cliff. Jackson didn’t have time to realize what he was doing as he threw himself onto Toothless’s back and shifted open the mechanical tailfin, urging the Night Fury to shot forward at the speeds necessary to catch Tuffnut before he hit the ground.

“AHHHHHHHH!” the Hideous Zippleback’s rider screamed before taking a deep breath and began screaming once again as his face dangled merely inches away from a dangerously pointy rock stack.

When he took a breath for the third time, but before he could scream some more, the clearing of a throat halted him. He had to craning his head to the side to look up towards his feet in order get a look at where the sound had come from. There, keeping the Viking from impaling himself on the pointy rock below by gripping Tuffnut’s leg in his mouth, was Toothless.

“Oh, hey, you caught me! Thanks Hiccup… wait, you’re not Hiccup,” the Viking’s blond brows fused together as he pointed to Jackson who was leaning over the side of Toothless to make sure the Thorston dangling dangerously close to his demise was alright. “Does Hiccup know you stole his dragon? Wait, don’t answer that! I know the answer; Toothless stole you! He’s stealing things to start a hoard of his own.”

“Are you sure it’s not the other way around?” Jackson asked with a grin as he leaned over and offered the end of his staff to the dangling Viking. Tuffnut contemplated the reverse and shrugged his shoulders before grabbing ahold of the crook and swung up onto Toothless’s back. When the Druid was sure the Viking was safely behind him, he turned his attention to the dragon beneath him. “Let’s go, Toothless.”

Back on top of the plateau, Hiccup was dragging Ruffnut back from the fray and towards the Gronckle and her rider. The heavyset Viking taking hold of the shaken girl’s arm and guiding her to sit down before her legs gave out.

"What's going on? Why are they fighting?" the Head of the Dragon Academy thought out loud, turning back to face the field where Astrid and Snotlout continued in vain to calm the dragons down.

“I don’t know,” Fishlegs shook his head as his moved closer to Meatlug, patting the Boulder-class dragon on the head to reassure himself she wasn’t going to go crazy and join the fray.

“I do, there’s something sticking half way up out of the field in the middle of all this. I saw it as we flew overhead,” Jackson shouted from above as Toothless landed off to the side and if Hiccup had more time, he would have been seriously impressed with how fast the Druid had learned the tailfin controls and the little quirks of the mechanism.

“Can you describe it?” Finn shouted, spinning the handle of his axe in his hand agitatedly. He didn’t want to kill any of their dragons, but he would if any of the teenagers were put in danger again. The older Hofferson hadn’t been prepared to intervene when the twins were thrown, believing the Dragon Riders could handle the dragons. However, that proved to be a mistake. One he wasn’t about to let happen again.

Jackson’s face crinkled as he tried to recall the brief glimpse he had gotten the thing he’d seen. “It was green and reminded me of some kind of plant bulb, but it was larger than any bulb I’ve seen before. Also, it looked like it had some weird growths coming out from all sides.”

Finn nodded his head, his blue eyes never leaving the dragons, but he knew exactly what it was the Druid was describing. “Dragon Root.”

“Not dragon root! That is terrible,” Tuffnut screeched in horror as he dismounted Toothless, only his foot caught and he ended up falling into the dirt. A groan of pain escaped him before he lifted his head – mud covering his face – and found all eyes on him.

“You don't actually know what Dragon Root is, do you?” Hiccup asked, giving the overly dramatic Viking a hand up.

“Not even the slightly. Not even the faintest,” Barf’s rider answered cheerfully, holding his thumb and forefinger together to show how little he actually knew. “I mean, I think I know what "dragon" means.”

“I’ve read about Dragon Root in _The Book of Dragons_ ,” Fishlegs spoke up, biting his lower lip and glancing over at the fighting dragons. “It is like Dragon Nip, only more powerful. However, there hasn’t been any in Berk for a few years because…uh…we used it all to bait traps when we still killed dragons.”

“How much more powerful?” the Head of the Academy demanded bringing the subject back on topic. Now was not the time for history lessons.

“Dragons crave it,” Finn answered, remembering the last time he had used the Dragon Root. The Monstrous Nightmares he had been after hadn’t stood a chance, they killed each other off and the survivor was already suffering from battle fatigue. It didn’t stand a chance against his axe. “It reverts dragons to the most basic and primal instincts. Their rationality is striped from them and they become mindless killing beast.”

“So, basically it is a drug for dragons?” Jackson inquired bringing the Vikings attention to the Druid standing by Hiccup’s side. Realizing his mistake, the brunet had to refrain from rolling his eyes and reword his question to use a more archaic terminology. “It’s a poison which makes them want to rip each other apart wing from wing, right?”

Understanding dawned on the hunter and he nodded his head. “Exactly.”

“Cool,” the twins said in unison.

“Sounds good,” Ruffnut continued on, finally standing up now that her legs were no longer shaking.

Tuffnut rubbed his hands together with a gleam in his eye. “Do they have it for people?”

“Not for a few hundred years, that or eat the wild mushrooms,” Jackson mumbled and this time, he did roll his eyes when everyone looking at him funny.

“Well, we can't leave Astrid and Snotlout down there,” Hiccup steered the conversation back on track, once again turning his attention to the dragons and their riders who hadn’t given up their endeavors to soothe the fire breathers. Snotlout’s newest approach was to try and jump off a small mound and onto Hookfang’s back, but the Monstrous Nightmare dove to attack Belch and the burly Viking ended up with a mouth full of dirt.

Spitting out the dirt, he shouted out in distress. “They're ignoring us! How do we get their attention?”

“Well, I might have an idea,” Astrid called out as she ducked and three different flames met in a giant blast above her head before canceling each other out. “But it's stupid and reckless-“

“You had me at ‘stupid’!” Snotlout cut her off, rolling out of the way as Stormfly and Hookfang both targeted Barf and Belch, knocking the dragon back and almost stepping on the brunet Viking if he hadn’t moved out of the way. With the Hideous Zippleback out of the way for the moment, the two remaining dragons rounded on each other.

“Stormfly!” Astrid shouted over the Deadly Nadder’s screech. Recklessly running in front of the blue dragon and thrown her arms out to block her. Jackson had to do the same to keep Finn front running out there to protect his niece. “If you're gonna attack him, you'll have to go through me.”

With the shieldmaiden’s attention fully focused on Stormfly, she did not notice Hookfang coming up behind her and jumped when the Monstrous Nightmare roared. However, Snotlout hand already cottoned on to Astrid’s plan and flung himself between the startled teenaged Hofferson and the red dragon. He threw out his arms to protect Astrid by making himself the larger target.

“Look, Hookfang, we both know you could totally kick Stormfly's tail-,” the burly Viking reassured the Monstrous Nightmare as clouds of smoke came out of the dragon’s nostrils with every huffed breath. “But if you want to try, you have to go through me!”

“Lass, Snotlout! What are you doing?” Finn shouted having to be kept at bay by not only Jackson, but Ruffnut, and Tuffnut too. Sneaky and Sharpshot were even helping by digging their claws into the hunter’s shoulders and trying to fly backwards.

While they were busy with Finn, Hiccup and Fishlegs had mounted their dragons. Ready to intervene if things went south yet the Head of the Dragon Academy held back. He trusted Astrid and Snotlout’s abilities as Dragon Riders and would give them a chance to implement their own plan. He would step in if necessary, but this was their time to prove themselves as warriors.

“I'm not sure,” Astrid called out, never lowering her arms from Stormfly or looking away while Snotlout did the same. They both steadily walked forwards while pushing their dragons back and away from the Dragon Root. “But we’re acting like a team, isn’t that the whole point of the last few days? For us to work as a team, right Uncle?”

Finn refused to respond, blue eyes fixated on his niece as she reached out her hand even further, flinching when the Deadly Nadder screeched and growled. It looked like the dragon would take off her hand but didn’t. Instead, Stormfly rested her nose against the shieldmaiden’s hand and relaxed. Her whole demeanor changing, going from a wild, raging dragon back to the tamed Deadly Nadder Astrid had bestowed the name Stormfly upon.

“There's my girl,” the shieldmaiden grinned, happiness and relief lacing her words. Snotlout, shadowing the Deadly Nadder rider’s movements, and laid his own hand on top of Hookfang’s nose horn. The Monstrous Nightmare reeling back and Hiccup thought he might have to interfere to save his cousin. However, the large dragon just shook his head and growled out affectionately to his rider.

“Ah, you big knucklehead,” the brunet Viking complained kindly, jabbing his finger in Hookfang’s face.

“They did it! We have to get in there,” Hiccup breathed out in relief, before groaning. “But none of us can get close to that root without our dragons going nuts.”

“That's not exactly true, Hiccup. Meatlug didn't go crazy,” the Gronckle rider pointed out from on top of said dragon.

“Maybe Meatlug's rock diet makes her immune to the Dragon Root's effect,” Ruffnut theorized, tapping her finger to her chin as she thought. Both Hiccup and Fishlegs turned to look at her incredulous. Not being able to wrap their minds around the idea it was one of the twins who’d come up with the theory while Finn just shook his head, muttering something about brightest quartz being surrounded by the dullest of exteriors.

“You might want to take a chance and get the Dragon Root now,” Jackson advised, pointing his staff in the Hideous Zippleback’s direction, “because Barf and Belch are about to rejoin the fray.”

“Right, Hiccup, we're going for the root. Cover us! Come on, girl,” Fishlegs gulped, patting the Gronckle more to reassure himself than the dragon. Finn was proud the boy only hesitated for a second before flying towards the Dragon Root. It seemed the confidence he had gained during their swordplay had stuck with him, just as the hunter had hoped for when he had cooked up this entire plan.

Landing by the root, Meatlug grabbed the large deformed bulb looking plant in her mouth and pulled.   Regardless, she was forced to release the plant and retreat when a gaseous ball engulfed the area above their heads. The explosion mere moments after had Meatlug erratically flying out of the blast zone and Hiccup jumping into action. Toothless bound into the fray, releasing a plasma blast which knocked Barf and Blech back and creating an opening for Meatlug to take another go at getting the Dragon Root.

“Lift with your legs!” Fishlegs instructed the Gronckle as she once again tugged at the large root. Fear starting to creep into his voice despite his best effort to keep calm and carry on. Yet, no matter how much Meatlug yanked and pulled, the root just would not budge. “She can't do it by herself!”

“I’m going in there,” Hiccup called from above the others, as Barf layered an even thicker cloud of gas around Fishlegs and Meatlug.

“No, wait. Look,” Jackson’s shout stopped the Night Fury rider. Vivid green eyes traced the path the staff was pointing in and found Stormfly had knocked the Hideous Zippleback back before Belch could ignite the gas.

“Astrid, you are a sight for sore eyes,” the heavyset Viking shouted from below the blue dragon.

“Who you calling Astrid?” Snotlout asked from on top of the Deadly Nadder.

“Snotlout?” the Fishlegs eyes grew in size, astonish to find the burly burnet on Stormfly’s back. “What? Where's…”

“Looking for me?” Astrid chirped from on top of Hookfang.

“Lass, what are you doing?” Finn called out as the two dragons got dangerously close to the Dragon Root, the feared the dragons would be pulled under the influence of the Dragon Root once more growing as they moved closer.

The shieldmaiden grin was wide enough to see even from the ground. “We switched dragons again. It's the only way we can keep them from fighting each other.”

“He can sniff Dragon Root all day, but Hookfang would never attack Snotlout! He respects him too much,” Snotlout proclaimed proudly.

Yet the two Dragon Riders’ brief distraction allowed the Hideous Zippleback took the opportunity to produce another cloud of gas. Regardless of them dividing their attention to explain the plan, neither were as unaware as the dragon had assumed. In fact, it gave them the upper hand.

“Do it, Hookfang. Wing Blast!” Astrid commanded and the Monstrous Nightmare gave a larger, extremely more powerful than normal flap of his wings. The resulting gust of wind not only blew away the cloud of gas as Belch tried to ignite it uselessly, but it also sent the Hideous Zippleback crashing to the ground.

“What was that?” Snotlout yelped, jerking his head back in surprise.

“You mean this?” the shieldmaiden grinned as she had Hookfang direct another blast of wind at the Dragon Root, further exposing the root as Meatlug fruitlessly tried to yank it up. “It's still stuck!”

“I'm on it. Stormfly, single spine shot!” the broad-shouldered Viking was on top of it, having Stormfly zip over towards the Gronckle rider’s aide.

Placing a hand just below the crown of spines on the Deadly Nadder’s head, the Sharp-class dragon immediately whipped her tail around but instead of letting out a barrage of spines, a single spine hurled threw the air with deadly accuracy. It ripped through the small vine like roots affixing the large bulb in place and without the roots holding it in place, Meatlug toppled forward at the unexpected release, momentarily losing her equilibrium.

“Good job, guys!” Hiccup praised as the twins ran towards their dragon to make sure the Hideous Zippleback was fine after taking a beating from Hookfang and Stormfly. “Fishlegs, can you take it from here?”

Fishlegs didn’t need to be told, already pointing Meatlug away from the other dragons and back towards Berk. “Dragon Root, flying out.”

“You do realize what happened, right?” Finn asked the remaining Dragon Riders as the dragons landed around Barf and Belch.

Snotlout, not one to hold back on boasts, proudly puffed out his chest and held his head high. “We totally kicked butt!”

“Exactly,” the hunter nodded which had the burly brunet looking at Finn in disbelief before a huge smile spread across Snotlout’s face. “And you all did it together, working as a team.”

“That was some fancy flying on my dragon,” Astrid agreed with her uncle, smiling at the Monstrous Nightmare rider.

“You know how it is. Chicks dig me,” Snotlout bragged wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at the shieldmaiden.

The Deadly Nadder rider rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah, that must be it.”

“Hookfang isn't always the easiest dragon to fly, Astrid. I have to admit, I'm impressed,” the burly Viking dropped the arrogance to compliment Astrid in his own roundabout sort of way.

“So, uh, do you think I can have my dragon back now?” the shieldmaiden asked as she climbed down off of Hookfang.

“Thought you'd never ask,” Snotlout sighed in relief, jumping off of Stormfly and running over to the Monstrous Nightmare. Not even caring there were others around to witnesses the moment of weakness, the burly Viking threw his arm around Hookfang in a giant hug when the red dragon lowered his long neck. “Oh, miss me?

Astrid took a slower more sedated pace, but she too hugged her dragon when the Deadly Nadder was in arm’s reach. “Good to see you again, girl.” Petting Stormfly’s head, she turned her attention back to Snotlout. “So, Snotlout, can you teach me how to do that single spine attack?”

The brunet Viking let go of Hookfang and tried to compose himself back to being his usual tough guy persona. “I don't know if you can handle it. Why don't you show me that wing clappy thingy first, and then I'll think about it.”

“Well, it seems like you two have complete your part of this training exercise,” Finn smiled proudly, clapping both of them on the shoulder before turning to look at Jackson. “And it would appear, Jackson, you learned the basics on flying.”

“And a bit more about the different species of dragons,” the brunet added glancing over at the assembled group of Academy members and moving to the side to make room for Fishlegs as he returned from getting rid of the Dragon Root. “Last night, all of them and Gobber went over _The Book of Dragons_ with me. So I am better prepared to recognize and deal with dragons when I have to. We had fun.”

“Sure did,” Tuffnut nodded his head sagely.

“Though he’s still not a Dragon Rider,” Ruffnut tacked on, shaking her head.

“Not yet at least,” Snotlout continued before Jackson could react.

“But he will be,” Astrid grinned.

“With this,” Hiccup finished pulling a brown cloth tied together with leather twine out of Toothless’s saddlebag and held it out to the brunet.

Amber eyes blinked down at the wrapped present and then up at the smiling faces of the Dragon Riders. Tucking his staff in the crook of his arm, Jackson uncertainly took the cloth from the Head of the Academy. One more glance up revealed the teenage Vikings waiting for him to open the present with baited breaths and the brunet was tempted to draw things out even more. However, his own curiosity wasn’t about to let him and he pulled at the leather twine, allowing the cloth to fall away.

On top was a blue scalemail arm bracer with bindings made from the softest leather in all of Berk.

“It’s designed for your right hand, to replace the arm warmer you scarified for Scauldy’s split, my mom helped me design it and the twins got the leather from their brother to make it along with the dyes,” Fishlegs explained as the brunet held up the piece of protective armor.

The Druid nodded as he set the arm bracer to the side and pulled out the final item inside the brown cloth. The blue object unraveled to reveal what appeared to be a coat of plates – more precisely a jack of plates – with its sleeveless shirt and a high neck design. It too was created out of blue scalemail which made it matched the arm bracer. Upon further carefully examination of the protective article of clothing, he found the fastening done up the front given were hidden well, showing how much care had been taken when crafting the scalemail. The inside was lined using deer hide with an extra layer around the high neck for extra protection.

“We asked Kalda, Terrorthi’s mother, to help us make it since she made your shirt and knew your measurement. She created it to be worn over any of the shirts you have,” Hiccup said, rubbing the back of his head. “I designed it, Astrid supplied the deer hide, and Snotlout dyed the scales.”

Jackson’s fingers clenched into the armor and held it close to his body, glancing up briefly with the shiest of smiles on his face. “Thank you.”

“Well, go head, put it on. Let’s see how it fits,” Finn wheedled which had the brunet looking like a deer in the line of a dragon’s fire for a moment before he nodded. Jackson had to take off his cloak to put the scalemail on, but it fit perfectly and best of all, Snotlout’s dye job had the scales matching his cloak. He had some trouble with the arm bracers fastening at first, but once he figured out the first one, the others went on easily enough.

“Looks good,” Astrid comment when he was finished putting on the armor. “You at least look partly like a Viking now.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll stick to being a Druid,” Jackson grinned at her, a small flush of pink dusting his checks.

“A Druid and a Dragon Rider,” Finn smiled nodding his head in approval.

“Just one question, what’s this made out of?” the brunet asked as he moved around, getting a feel for any restriction the clothing might have and finding none. The article of armor wasn’t too heavy either which meant it couldn’t have been made out of metal like he had first assumed. He actually thought it might have been lighter than his cloak which was an oddity in itself.

This time, it was Hiccup’s turn to blush as he ducked his head and shifted his weight from foot to mechanical leg and back again. “Well, I… um… I know you’re one more for speed and agility than brute strength, so heavy metal was out of the question. But, anything lighter wouldn’t be able to handle the stress the armor needs to be able to endures and… um... I was at a loss until Periwinkle gave me this.”

The blacksmith’s apprentice dug into the pocket of his vest and produced a small black object. Cocking his head to the side, Jackson took the thin object from Hiccup and turned it over in his hands, examining it. Amber eyes widened when he finally realized what exactly it was he was holding and his head whipped up to look at the Night Fury rider.

“This is a dragon’s scale.”

“Uh huh,” Hiccup confirmed nodding his head. “Toothless’s to be precise.”

“I’m wearing armor made out of dragon scales. That is so awesome,” the burnet began to bounce on his feet, giddily. “Hey, can I keep this too?”

The auburn haired teenager couldn’t keep the smile off his face at how thrilled Jackson was with the gifts and nodded, when he held up black scale. Green eyes watched as the Druid’s smile grew wider and he looked around before grabbing the leather cord which had kept the present wrapped. Amber eyes examined the black scale and frowned only to smile a second later as he offered it up to Sharpshot. The green Terrible Terror cocked his head to the side before biting the scale, creating a small puncture which Jackson threaded the cord through and tied it to his staff so it was dangling next to his crystal.

“Now that we’ve seen what Laddie’s learned about being a Dragon Rider, why do you share with us what you learned about being a Druid, Hiccup?” Finn brought the groups’ attention back to why they were at Finn’s place to begin with; their exhibition.

With all eyes now turned on him, the Head of the Academy shifted awkwardly before rummaging in Toothless’s saddlebag once more. “I learned that there is more out there, more than we can see with our own eyes. That Berk is a larger place than we all originally thought and it’s not just us and dragons living here. There are countless more Creatures of Magic living on Berk, who have hidden themselves from us, because we were killing off those of their kind and they were in fear for their lives.”

As he spoke, he carefully pulled out the seeds created from the Night Fury Lily’s roots and showed the rest of the Vikings, making sure not to drop any and looked up to see the setting sun. Then without hesitation, he threw the blackened seeds up into the air. The others gasped as the wind twirled them though the air as if they were leaves.

The seeds were pulled higher and higher into the air where they exploded very similar to how Toothless’s plasma blast did. Blue sparkles drifted down which had the dragons sitting up on and watching the lights in rapture. The Night Fury even went as far as trying to bat at one of them with his front paws. Barf and Belch attempted to eat some of the sparkles while Stormfly spread her wings and shook them off her body. The two Terrible Terrors chased a couple of the glowing particles while Hookfang was entranced with one that had landed right before his eyes. None of them seemed to be able to catch the sparks.

The blue sparkles only dimmed before disappearing as they sank into the soil. Darkness over took the area for a few second and then, glowing little saplings rose from the ground growing no more than a few inches. They glowed a bit brighter and then the light bleed away, revealing healthy plants. All the while the Vikings watched in awe as the Druid of the group held back chuckles at the expression of utter wonder washed over their faces.

“But these Creatures of Magic are willing to work with us, if we work with them and listen to Berk’s newest residential Druid.”

 


	35. Eel Pox Epidemic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 35? That means there's only 15 more to go, and look! I broke 200K! Please keep sticking with me, I know the HiJack is not prevailing, but it is to come. I promise, there's just a few more hiccups (no pun intended) to happen to our boys before they figure things out.
> 
> Also, I have edited the last chapter to include art! Druid!Jack which I commissioned from an artist alley artist at a con. Hope this appease people who wanted to see what Jack's new outfit looks like. (Also, please tell me if the art isn't showing up, I followed the directions on the Tutorial, but there was some problems.)

“Hey Jackson,” Hiccup greeted the Druid as he entered the forge.

While the Head of the Dragon Academy was glad to see the brunet wearing the armor the Dragon Riders had work together to make for him, the reaction he got to his arrival wasn’t what he expected.

“It wasn’t me! I didn’t do it?” Jackson all but shouted as he dropped what he had been holding and turned around, using his body to hid whatever it was. When he saw it was only the chief’s son, he let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, hi Hiccup.”

Green eyes stared into gleaming amber. “What are you up to Jackson?”

“Nothing?”

“Really now?” Hiccup asked walking up to the Druid and grabbed his shield from out behind the brunet who was desperately trying to hide it. “And why do you have this?”

“No reason,” the younger teen said, not looking at him.

“Jackson,” Hiccup slowly drew out the name and the taller teenager deflated, flashing him a sheepish grin.

“I might have been using it to entice a flock of Terrible Terrors into Finn’s hut. It’s very shiny you know,” Jackson answered as he pushed himself up onto the workbench and took a seat there, somehow finding the one place the workbench wasn’t scattered with small ore samples, leathers, furs, herbs or dried berries without even looking. Reaching over, he pulled his staff from where it was leaning right up against the side of the table into his lap and began fiddling with the crystal and scale attacked to the base of the hook.

“I know. I also know you have been spending way too much time with the twins if you are pranking people now too. Why would you play a prank on Finn?” the blacksmith’s apprentice shook his head, walking his shield over to his workbench across the way and setting it down there. In that instance, Hiccup felt something small hit the back of his head, harmlessly bouncing off and turned to look at the glaring brunet with his arms crossed over his chest.

“First off Hiccup, I was playing pranks on people long before I met Ruff and Tuff. So don’t go blaming them,” the Druid said, pulling one of his knees up to his chest and resting his head on it. The revelation actual surprised Hiccup slightly, because Jackson just didn’t seem the mischief-making type.

Hiccup suddenly stopped what he was doing and glanced back over at Jackson who just raised an eyebrow at him. The Night Fury rider took that back, the Druid was definitely a mischief-maker. He was constantly telling stories to the children who would later reenact some of the scene to their parents’ bewilderment. His father still had a little group of body guards at every feast making sure his food wasn’t poisoned. The brunet had turned their Terrible Terror competition into a show and was able to tricked Dagur into believing he was Jokul Frosti. To top it all off, Jackson was constantly bribing Toothless with fish to do things for him; which was why he was here in the first place, to find the wayward Night Fury.

So yeah, Hiccup concluded that Jackson Overland was very much a mischief-maker. Only he wasn’t the malice type. His mischief usually involved having fun or saving their lives. That, the Viking could live with.

“Secondly, I’m not pranking Finn,” the burnet continued and Hiccup was about to open his mouth, intending on pointing out the obvious contradiction. However, Astrid chose that time to come running it.

“It work!” the shieldmaiden said, not even looking in the chief’s son’s direction. He didn’t even think she noticed him since her eyes were immediately drawn to Jackson.

“We’re pranking Finn,” the Druid finished, causing the blonde teen to look over and spot her friend for the first time. She looked surprise to see him there and looked back at the brunet, sharing a look before Jackson just shrugged his shoulders and a thoughtful expression crossed her face. With a brisk nod at the Druid, she turned her attention back to Hiccup.

“And Gobber,” Astrid said, folding her arms and leaning against Jackson’s workbench.

Now, Hiccup was just lost. “What?”

“We’re pranking Uncle Finn and Gobber,” the shieldmaiden informed him plainly as if they were talking about the weather and not _Astrid_ pranking people. The slight grin across her face had the Night Fury rider knowing he hadn’t misheard or imagined the words coming from the Hofferson’s mouth.

Hiccup’s confusion hit a new level; serious to the core Astrid and fun-loving Jackson were pranking his mentor and Fearless Finn Hofferson. “Why would you even do that?”

“Because Gobber has been mooning over Uncle Finn since he got here, even before that from what Jackson has described to me,” Astrid explained waving a hand carelessly about as if this was not a big deal. It really – _really_ – was. “And I think it would do Uncle some good to have someone in his life. He moved into Mildew’s old hut for Thor’s sake. And we all know Mildew’s hut was built the farthest possible point away from the village without actually leaving the village. That’s not healthy.”

“So, we were trying to help move things along,” Jackson continued picking his staff up off his lap and hooping down form the workbench to stand by the blonde shieldmaiden. The two shared a look and smiled brightly.

“So you trapped some Terrible Terrors in Fearless Finn’s hut to what? Have Gobber come over to help him clear them out?” the Night Fury asked, still not getting the picture. “You know, there is an easier way to get them to be friends. Like inviting him to Gobber’s drinking nights with Mulch and Bucket.”

The auburn haired teen was stunned when the normally stoic shieldmaiden literally slammed her forehead into her hand. That was something he usually did while she just rolled her eyes. The glare which came after had Hiccup rooted to the stop and reminded him that the Hoffersons had a great many notable warriors in their bloodline which had sent many of the tribe’s enemies retreating at the very sight of their blond hair, blue eyed clan members.

“Hiccup,” Astrid said very slowly as if she were speaking to a child. “We are not trying to get them to be friends. We are trying to get Gobber to court my Uncle Finn because he has a giant crush on him and I think it would be beneficial for the both of them.”

“And I’m helping,” Jackson chimed in.

The revelation had green eyes widening to an impossible size as his head whipped back and forth between the two in front of him not knowing what to say. “You mean…Courting…as if…but…they’re… both guys.”

“So? You got a problem with that?” the shieldmaiden asked, her voice stiff with an ominous edge to it. Once more the blonde teenager crossed her arms over her chest, this time the hard blue eyes that fixated on him with a glare had nothing friendly about it. “Jackson doesn’t have a problem with that. Do you Jackson?”

“No,” the Druid answered, sounding a little bewildered at the question and looking slightly confused at Astrid’s change in demeanor. “A couple of children from my home, Pippa and Monty, have two fathers. Well, Pippa had two fathers and Monty has two mothers. It’s fairly common from where I’m from.”

“See, he doesn’t have a problem with it. Do you have anything to say?” Astrid asked as she pulled the axe from her back and started to run a finger across the blade’s tip.

“Nope, I am good. Oh so good, thank you for asking,” Hiccup held up his hands in front of him in the universal sign of surrender. He only felt safe enough to lower them when the axe was safely put back into its harness on the shieldmaiden’s back. A breath of air rushed out of his lungs as the tense atmosphere dissipated, yet he still had to deal with the problem at hand. “But won’t other have things to say. I mean…it’s not norm-er… everyday two men start courting.”

Blues eyes rolled as if the chief’s son was the one attempting to break the tribe’s social norms and not the other way around. “Hiccup, it’s Gobber, the chief’s left hand man and my Uncle, Fearless Finn Hofferson. If anyone had something to say, they would be extremely stupid. And brave, though they would be more stupid than anything. They would not only anger your father by insulting his best friend, but Uncle Finn and Da are some of the most feared warriors of Berk. Besides we’re Vikings and we solve our differences with battle-”

“I prefer snowball fights myself,” Jackson added, though Hiccup didn’t think Astrid noticed as she talked right over the burnet.

“-and no one wants to battle a Hofferson over a matter of honor. _No one_ ,” the last part was said gravely while the shieldmaiden gave him the evil eye which had the hairs on the back of the Night Fury rider’s neck standing on end. Taking a gulp, Hiccup nodded his head to show he understood. A deep breath escaping him when the gesture appeared to appease Astrid who gave a curt nod and let her arms fall to her side.

Vivid green eyes glanced at the shieldmaiden before darting over to Jackson. “Can I assume you’ve already roped Toothless into helping you?”

“Bribed him with a basket of fish to put the wild Terrible Terrors back into Finn’s hut from the roof every time Gobber or Finn gets one out. Stormfly and the Academy Terrible Terrors are helping too,” the Druid proclaimed proudly and Hiccup could not keep from slumping at the triumphant grin on the blonde’s face.

It did not look like this was something which Astrid was going to be letting go any time soon. That meant he was most likely going to be recruited in her matchmaking scheme she had already roped both of his dragons, the other Academy members’ Terrible Terrors, and Jackson into.

Knowing when the battle was already lost before it even began, the chief’s son relented. “Fine, I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”

“Not really sure, I only had the one idea,” Astrid said, the grin on her face becoming even larger at acquiring another collaborator in her growing scheme. However, it was the small pleased smile on Jackson’s face which had the auburn haired teenager giving a weak smile of his own. “Although, this would be so much easier if it were closer to Snoggletog, we could push them under the mistletoe.”

The brunet’s smile twitched downwards as his brows creased. “What’s Snoggletog?” Both Vikings stopped and starred at the Druid who looked between the two when they gave him twin looks of disbelief. “What?”

“You don’t celebrate Snoggletog?” Astrid asked incredulously, brushing her bangs out of her eyes to look straight into those puzzled amber eyes.

“Since I don’t know what it is, I can safely say I don’t,” Jackson shrugged his shoulders, holding his unoccupied palm up. “So, what’s this Snoggletog?”

Seeing as the shieldmaiden was busy opening and closing her mouth with no wording forming, Hiccup informed the foreigner about their holiday. “Snoggletog is our annual winter festival we celebrate during Devastating Winter. There’s gifts, music, and lot of food as there is with any kind of festival but we decorate a few weeks before the actual day and build a large wooden tree in the middle of the village which is decorate it with specially made shields. On the eve of Snoggletog, we leave out our helmets for Odin to fill with presents and there is a huge feast in the Great Hall on Snoggletog day.”

“Huh,” the Druid hummed, tilting his head to the side and twirled his staff around his fingers, “sounds a lot like Christmas. Only stockings are hung by the hearth instead of leaving out helmets and Santa Claus is the one to bring gifts to the good little boys and girls on his nice list but coal for those on his naughty list.”

“So you celebrate Christmas instead of Snoggletog?” Astrid asked as she attempted to wrap her head around someone who didn’t celebrate Snoggletog. Hiccup knew it was hard for the shieldmaiden, because Snoggletog was her favorite holiday and she couldn’t image someone not wanting to celebrate it who wasn’t Mildew.

“Well, kinda,” Jackson nervously scratched his face with one of his fingers. “I know someone who’s _really_ into Christmas and I participate in the festivities when he’s finished with his holiday run. However, as a Druid I celebrated Yuletide which is a twelve-day fire festival that starts on the Winter Solstice; the longest night and the shortest day, where the Triple Goddess once again becomes the Great Mother and we celebrate the rebirth of the Sun.”

“How do you celebrate?” Hiccup asked genuinely curious to hear more about the Druid festival after the brunet had showed him how the Druid traditions and beliefs pertained to Berk and the Creatures of Magic living on the island.

Jackson appeared uncertain for a moment, shifting his wait from foot to foot as he bit his bottom lip. Amber eyes glazed over when the brunet froze, his hand squeezing around his staff and the two Dragon Riders shared a look, Hiccup fearing he had brought up bad memories. However, a moment later brown hair swayed back and forth when the Druid shook his head and a sad smile crossed his lip.

“Well, we had trees too but we would go hunting for them and when we found the perfect tree, we’d decorate them out in the wild. Druid clans use to keep a candlelight vigil around the tree though all twelve nights of Yule to make sure twelve candles remained lit. But, with it only being my mom, sister and me, we couldn’t keep to the traditions, not enough people willing to participate in a pagan holiday. Instead, we lit a candle each of the twelve nights and finally extinguished them on the twelfth night.

“There is a ritual on the last day with Yule log – usually pine or oak that cannot be purchased – with white, red and black candles please on the log, a chalice of wine and each person is given a small piece of paper to write something they hope to accomplish during the coming year. The papers are then attached to the Yule log which the High Priest or Priestess lights,” the sad smile on Jackson’s face grew deeper as amber eyes looked down. There was a slight pause as he got his wavering voice under control before he began again. “Usually, it was my mother who lite the log since there were no more High Priests and Priestess around, but I got to during our last Yule together. Then everyone drinks from the chalice of wine and the ashes are collect to make protective and healing charms out of.

“We also had to kiss under mistletoe too,” the Druid finished, rubbing his eyes with the back of his left arm and if Hiccup had seen any tears, he chose to ignore them.

“Sounds enjoyable,” Astrid awkwardly consoled him, shifting her weight and looking uncomfortable with the new line of conversation, “but we’re getting off topic. We need to think of other ways to get Gobber and Uncle Finn together.”

Glance at Jackson, the chief’s son took the intuitive to come up with an idea since the burnet didn’t appear to be in the right mindset. “Hmmm… maybe since Finn has been helping Gobber manage the forge while me and Jackson are busy, we could be busy more often?”

The suggestion was enough to bring the Druid out of his melancholy state and back into the conversation, shaking his head. “But now that Finn has a place of his own to stay, he might not feel obligated to help out. That and now that he has a field to tend to, he won’t have as much free time. Plus, he still plans to go hunting which will give him even less time.”

“How do you know that?” the shieldmaiden gave Jackson a curious look not appearing to be privy to the same information the brunet already had.

Jackson made a nonchalant gesture. “He asked if I would skin and tan the hides of his kills since he needed the extra time to tend to the field. I told him I would if I had time. If not, I got Gruffnut agree to do it in my place.”

“How did you manage that?” the chief’s son asked knowing from his father that while Gruffnut was the best butcher and tanner in the village, he was also the most difficult to deal with. His father even had trouble with the gruff Viking and when he had to deal with the man, he usually sent the Head of Berk’s Craft Guide in his place.

“Gruffnut heard about the Wyldfae from the twins and was curious, so I introduced him to a few Dewdrop Faeries. For some reason, he felt indebted to me for doing so,” the brunet answer looking unsure of the reason why Gruffnut felt the way he did and Hiccup wanted to bang his head against the workbench. The Druid still didn’t get that the Hairy Hooligan Tribe members weren’t used to the Wyldfae and with the rumors flying around about them after his father’s council had seen them at their impromptu feast, everyone wanted to meet them.

“Getting off topic again,” Astrid pointed out and both Jackson and Hiccup had the decency to look sheepish.

“Why not set them up on a blind date?” Jackson asked which produced two strange expressions that had him looking to the heavens, muttering something in his native tongue before switching back. “We get them to agree to have dinner with us and then we excuse ourselves, leaving the two alone to eat a meal together, alone.”

Blue eyes widened as the shieldmaiden nodded her head vigorously. “That’s a great idea! Hiccup, you get Gobber to agree and I’ll get Uncle Finn to agree to host the meal up at his hut.”

“And what about me?” the brunet asked fiddling with Toothless’s scale attached to his staff.

There was a pause as Astrid glanced at him, her nose scrunching up before she made her decision. “You’ll cook.”

“I should have known,” Jackson sighed but the small twitching of his lips upwards told the Night Fury rider he didn’t mind and was please that he was being included. Though, Hiccup’s own lips were drawn down when a potential dilemma cropped up in his mind.

“Just one question: how are we going to excuse ourselves without giving away what we are doing?”

The shieldmaiden didn’t even pause to give Hiccup’s concern any thought, just wave her and dismissively.

“I’m sure something will come up, it always does,” Astrid commented, not knowing how true her words would be.

* * *

 

“Where’s Jackson?” Astrid fumed pacing back and forth in front of Hiccup and their two dragons. The small group was waiting for the Druid near the halfway point between the Hoffersons’ home and Finn’s hut which was where Jackson was supposed to meet them after picking some fresh herbs and spices from the forest. Yet, he was late. Very late.

“He’ll be here,” Hiccup tried to calm the shieldmaiden down. Glancing down the beaten path for any sign of the burnet, but coming up empty. “I saw some of the children following him into the forest earlier, they probably delayed him and he’ll be here any minute now.”

“He better, it took me forever to convince Uncle Finn to host a dinner party,” Astrid grumbled, rounding on the Night Fury rider and glaring at him for all she was worth.

Hiccup gulped and looked anywhere but at her in fear her eyes would somehow cause him physical harm. Coincidently, it was only because he was looking elsewhere that he saw the two dots erratically flying towards the village. Toothless’s ear-plates perked up and Stormfly chirped softly, both of the dragons tuning into something he couldn’t hear. As the dots came closer, he could faintly hear the distress wails of a Terrible Terror.

Squinting, he strained his eyes to see if there was anything chasing the two tiny yellow dragons but couldn’t see anything. “Isn’t that Head and Butt?”

The shieldmaiden turned and looked in the direction Hiccup was pointing. “I think it is. I wonder what’s they’re doing out here?”

Toothless growled before calling out to the two smaller dragons with a loud roar. The Terrible Terrors screeched back, looking around before spotting Toothless and Stormfly, instantly changing directions, heading towards them. As the two dragons came closer, the Dragon Riders could make out that it was indeed Head and Butt and a few moments more, the Terrible Terrors were upon them, literally. One, and Hiccup didn’t know which one, was pecking at his head, gabbing at his hair and tugging it while the other one did the same to Astrid.

“Hey! Stop that,” the auburn haired teenager shouted, throwing up his arms up to cover his head.

“Cut it out,” Astrid yelped as she shielded her head with one arm while waving the other around to swat at the yellow Terrible Terror.

Toothless and Stormfly jumped forth to protect their riders. The Deadly Nadder pivoting on her feet to smack the Terrible Terror out of the air with her tail but the little dragon dodged the attack and turned his attention to the larger dragon instead of her rider. Flying around the Sharp-class dragon’s head, his back claws grabbing hold of Stormfly’s horn and desperately attempted to pull the larger dragon back in the direction they had come from. Toothless was having a similar experience with the yellow Terrible Terror’s twin flying around the Night Fury trying to get the black dragon to go in the direction he wanted.

“Astrid, I think they want us to follow them,” Hiccup slowly spoke as the one dragon head-butted Toothless when he tried to go in the opposing direction, causing the Night Fury to growl at him. The Dragon Rider walked over to Toothless and placed a hand on him. “It’s okay Bud, calm down. Let’s go see what they want.”

“But,” the blonde started to protest, looking longingly in the direction of Finn’s hut before shaking her head and coming to the decision for herself. Mounting Stormfly, she looked pointedly at her leader. “Let’s get this over with; the sooner we’re done, the sooner well get back.”

“Right,” the Head of the Academy agreed swinging himself into the saddle. “You heard her Bud, let’s follow those Terrors.”

Head and Butt were already flying back the way they’d came, little wings beating as fast as they could, struggling to move faster than their wings could carry them. Stormfly and Toothless effortlessly kept up with the tiny dragon, going at a lazy pace. However, soon Toothless’s ear-plates went wild, twitching every which way before he suddenly banked to the left and speed up without any warning. Stormfly chirped out startled, but followed the Night Fury’s example, overtaking the Terrible Terrors.

Hiccup trusted his partner and allowed him to take the lead; searching in between the tree canopies below before he spotted a flash of blue in between the green. “There!”

Toothless grunted and made a sharp turn, weaving through the dense treetops to land.

“Hiccup,” Jackson – who had must have heard them coming through the treetops – wearily greeted the Viking as the Druid shifted his arms, hiking Snuffnut further up onto his back.

The motion drew two pairs of green eyes to the little boy’s pale and sweat stained face nestled into the crook of the brunet’s shoulder while his arms wrapped weakly around the teenager’s neck shook ever so slightly. Gustav stood next to Jackson, desperately trying to suppress his own coughs while supporting Terrorthi in a similar position to the Thorston on his back. The tiny girl looked just as bad, if not worse than Snuffnut.

Behind them stood three more boys all around Hiccup’s age. A redhead with a chainmail shirt and yak hid pants was leaning up against a blond with a light fur long-sleeved vest on top of a brown shirt and deerskin pants. The horns of their Viking helmets catching on each other as the two boys tried to help each other stand upright. As for the third boy, his brown hair underneath his helmet wasn’t plastered to his face like the others, but he was shivering uncontrollably, clutching the black bear fur vest closer to his body effectively hiding his grey undershirt.

Hiccup recognized the three as Wartihog, Speedifist, and Clueless, respectively. They were the three troublemakers who would force those younger than them into doing their chores while they went off into the forests to taunt wild dragons. Something which his father had put a stop when a few Gronckles had nearly taken out a few huts and destroyed two sheep pens. There were also a few tales buzzing about pertaining them and a certain Druid which had just recently gotten back to the Academy members and they weren’t too happy with the other teens.

Upon seeing the Dragon Rider, Gustav’s feet gave out and he fell to his knees. “Thank Thor, you’re here Hiccup.”

The chief’s son hurried to dismount Toothless and rushed to Gustav’s side, gently taking Terrorthi off the boy’s back and cringed at the heat irradiating from Gothi’s niece.   He looked over the group of teenagers behind the brunet as Jackson lowered himself to his knees and slipped Snuffnut off his back. “Jackson, what happened here?”

“I couldn’t find Speedifist this morning to help me with my chores like Snotlout had made him promise to help me with and when I went looking for him at Wartihog and Clueless’s houses, I couldn’t find them either,” Gustav began rambling before the Druid could open his mouth, leaving Jackson the time to check on Snuffnut.

“Terrorthi and Snuffnut were keeping me company and playing with Head and Butt as I collected some spices,” Jackson spoke up, placing a hand against Snuffnut’s forehead and grimacing at the heat radiating from the boy. “We were just heading back when Gustav found me and explained to me those three were missing. I got a few of the Dewdrop Faeries to help me locate them, but they were pretty far up in the mountains.”

“Clueless got lost again. We went to find him, but then we weren’t feeling so good,” Wartihog cut in his voice slurred and almost too soft to hear.

“Yeah, feel no good. Then pretty lights found us and brought Jackson,” Speedifist agreed, swaying on his feet.

“We were in the process of heading back down the mountain when Snuffnut collapsed followed by Terrorthi,” Jackson took over as he pulled a cloth out of his back pouch and dabbed the sweat off of the blond’s brow. He pulled a few more out and handed them to Wartihog and Speedifest who hesitated before taking them from the boy they had mercilessly teased. Amber eyes looked up to Hiccup with scarred eyes. “I didn’t know what was going on. They all got sick so fast and suddenly. A few of the Wyldfae had to be escorted back to Pixie Hollow by Periwinkle and Silvermist because of exhaustion and I wasn’t sure what to do. Then Head and Butt flew away, making matter worse.”

“They came to get us, Astrid should be arriving soon with them,” Hiccup said softly, laying a hand on the brunet’s shoulder to comfort him as green eyes took in the symptoms the children were showing. “I think I know what we’re dealing with. It looks to be Eel Pox.”

Stormfly chose that moment to descend through the treetops and landed next to Toothless. Her rider dismounted while both of them took in the scene around them. A bleak expression came over Astrid’s face as she looked over the sick children.

“What happened?”

“They seem to have contracted Eel Pox,” Hiccup informed her gravely. “We need to get everyone back to the village.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muhahaha, and now we figure out why Hiccup hasn't made a move on Jack. He hasn't even considered him an option, but now that Astrid is playing matchmaker with her uncle and Gobber (and I do hope you caught all the little hints there in previous chapters XP), he'd going to start seeing the Druid a little differently.
> 
> The three teenage boys are actually from the game, I really didn't want to make up more OCs, but I need a few more people.


	36. The Effect of Prolong Exposure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, day late, but in my defense, this chapter was hard to write! Damn you Vikings *coughHiccupcough* with your stubbornness and lack of understanding feels.
> 
> On another, happier note, I am ecstatic you like the picture (I only wish I could draw that good T.T) and a lot of you guys' love for Finn/Gobber makes me glad I wrote that in. (I made a new ship! Fibber? Gobbinn?)
> 
> BlackMoonFantasy: Your review? I love it! I keep getting reviews asking where the HiJack is but to know there are people out there like you who'd read this even if Jack and Hiccup stayed just friends makes me feel good. But I swear there is HiJacks in this, it just keeps getting pushed further and further back because our boys are clueless (Jack more so than Hiccup).
> 
> MintCrazeo1: Am too busy laughing at the mental image of Hiccup as Anna and Jack as Kristoff in the Fixer Upper scene of Froze - although, my mind added the Dewdrop Faeries instead of trolls and a dragon Toothless instead of a reindeer Sven - that I can't come up with a reply other than Thank You for that.

Jack groaned and tried to roll over only to stiffen. His whole body was sore and even the simplest movements caused discomfort if not outright pain. He felt like his blood was on fire yet he was freezing cold. There was a heavy weight on top of him keeping him pinned but at least provided a bit of warmth, though the ex-spirit couldn’t figure out how it had gotten there. He attempted to open his eyes yet didn’t even glimpse a sliver of light before slamming them shut. Instead of dealing with the pain his body was in, Jack tried to recall what lead up to him being here.

He remembered Gustav coming to him worriedly about three missing teenagers and asking for help. The Dewdrop Faeries had assisted Jack in locating the missing teenagers right around the same time Snuffnut’s sneezing turned into coughs. Then Terrorthi started sneeze and the immortal teenager was faced with the dilemma of either taking the younger two back to the village and leave the teenagers out in the forest or continue on with Snuffnut and Terrorthi regardless of their declining health.

Jack had been force to choose the second option when the winds pushed him forward insistently. When he had reached the lost teenagers, he was glad he had listened to the winds seeing how the missing trio was even sicker than the two little ones. The Druid had been lucky two of the Wyldfae he had enlisted had a talent in healing and while they couldn’t completely heal the three boys – they were only Dewdrop Faeries after all – they were able to restore the teenagers’ health to the point they could safely travel.

The ex-spirit just wished he had the forethought to ask them to do the same for Terrorthi and Snuffnut if he had known how quickly their condition would deteriorate. Instead, Jack had Periwinkle and Silvermist escort the exhausted Elixa and Poppy back to Pixie Hollow to recover whilst he took the six of them back to the village for treatment. They had only gotten a quart way back before Snuffnut had collapsed and to further add to his troubles, Gustav had started to cough as well.

Jack hadn’t wanted to worry the children with how quickly the situation was becoming dire and instead shuffled the boy on his back. They continued on with the immortal teenager telling the historical tale of the Sisterhood of Flight to keep all of their minds occupied. However, when Terrorthi’s legs gave out, his anxiety spiked and he had hoped to get Head and Butt to get help – not knowing if they were trained like Sharpshot and Sneaky to deliver mail – but both dragons had disappeared.

He knew they needed to keep moving but there was no way Jack could carry both the children. Before he could ask the older boys, Gustav had kneeled down and presented his back to the young shieldmaiden and the Druid remembered the swell of pride that well up inside him for the boy. The young brunet had not only alerted him to his missing friends but had helped Terrorthi even when he was clearly not well himself.

After that, Jack knew they’d reached the halfway point back to the village which was when Hiccup and Astrid had arrived. The two Dragon Riders had taken the Terrorthi and Snuffnut back to the village while Jack stayed with the others. During which time Clueless’s cough became rougher and a delirium set in that had him seeing things that weren’t there. Thankfully, Hiccup returned not long later with the rest of the Dragon Riders to give the rest of them a ride back.

From there, his memory got fuzzy. Jack vaguely remembered waking up leaned against the brown fur vest when Toothless landed at the bottom of the stairs to the Great Hall. He couldn’t recall climbing the steps, but he did remember the Great Hall packed to the brim with adults suffering from the same illness, which shed some light on why Gustav was the one to notice the three missing boys and not their parents. The ex-spirit had pushed himself to help an ailing Norbert cook some chicken soup for the sick while Astrid went to get Gothi.

There was another gap in his memory since one moment he was helping Norbert and the next he was collecting ingredients for the medicine on Healer's Island. Then a faint memory of someone mentioning eels and nothing else; Jack couldn’t remember anything after that. The more he tried to remember the more his head hurt.

A brief image of being under water flashed through his mind as he dug through his memories which made his current condition even worse. He felt colder than before triggering his body into shivering violently and producing a spike of pain that seared throughout his whole body. Jack attempted to curl into himself to find warmth, but only ended up whimpering as his body protested the action.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” a soothing voice hushed him as something warm pressed itself against his forehead. The brunet’s cloudy mind was not able identify who it was, but the immortal teenager thought he should have known the person. “Calm down, we don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

None of the words matter – or even made sense – to the Druid at the moment, all he cared about was the blessed warmth on his forehead. The warmth felt like heaven and Jack want it to stay. Despite his wishes though, the warmth was taken away and he found himself whimpering once more. He tried to reach out, but the heavy weight on top of him kept his weak arms trapped and it only seemed to get heavier.

Jack felt himself burrowing down under the extra weight, finding slight comfort in the new warmth it provided. It wasn’t the same as the previous warmth but it would do.

“There, that’s better, isn’t it?” the voice asked again and the Druid wanted to say no. He wanted the other warmth back too, but he couldn’t. He was already falling back into the blissfulness of sleep.

* * *

Hiccup finished setting the fur over the top of the three other blankets already piled on Jackson, yet he could still see the slender body shivering underneath. The brunet looked so small and fragile beneath the heavy furs; the darker colors contrasting greatly with his skin tone, revealing how pale he was. Brown hair was plastered to his forehead turning his locks almost a black color despite the auburn haired teenager’s best efforts to soak up the excess perspiration with a damp cloth.

Despite all his efforts, the Druid’s fever had not broke even with the large dose of medicine Gothi had managed to force down his throat. The guilt he had managed to push away began to eat at Hiccup once more. He should have realized Jackson was sick, but he had been too focused on the epidemic of Eel Pox spreading throughout Berk he had completely missed the signs right in front of him.

Jackson had been quiet and sluggish while helping out in the Great Hall and yet he still came with them to Healer’s Island. What was worse, the chief’s son had then dragged the brunet to Eel Island to get the Bloodbane Eel and had ended up plunging them both into the cold ocean water trying to catch one of the eels. Toothless – the gods’ sent that the dragon was – had saved them but ingested an eel in the process before fleeing for some unknown reason at the time.

Stupidly, Hiccup had listened to the self-sacrificing Druid when Jackson volunteered to stay behind and get an eel while the Dragon Rider went after the distressed Night Fury. On the upside, the Head of the Academy ended up figuring out why most dragons wouldn't eat eels. It made them ill, violently so and it was only thanks to Fishlegs and Meatlug coming to Eel Island – in search of them when they hadn’t returned when they should have – that Hiccup was able cure the rampaging Night Fury. Once Toothless was back to normal, they had gone back for the brunet.

The chief’s son didn’t think he would ever forget finding Jackson slumped against a tree. His complexion too pale, his body lacking any visible motion, and for a split second Hiccup thought Máni had taken the Druid, leaving his body behind. Fishlegs had even began to ask the question he wasn’t prepared to answer before a hitched shallow breath escaped Jackson and his body jerked, shivering underneath his soaked cloak. Regardless of his obvious illness, resting by Jackson’s sided were three Bloodbane Eels.

“How’s he doing?” Gobber asked walking into the room, snapping the young Viking out of his memories. However, it took too much effort to look away from the bed and towards his mentor that Hiccup just didn’t. He was grateful Gobber had offer his bed to the brunet since Jackson was in no condition to be sleeping in the small loft that he had claimed as his own.

“No change,” Hiccup answered vivid green eyes flickering over to his mentor briefly. His eyes were drawn back over to the shivering frail teenager and then to the base of the bed where Toothless was sound asleep, the eel having taken a lot out of him. Yet, the Night Fury wasn’t about to leave the brunet’s side either.

“Ah, don’t give up hope Hiccup, Jackson will pull through, he’s a strong lad,” Gobber throw his stone prosthetic around the young Viking’s shoulder. “Besides, Eel Pox has only ever killed young children… well, and the occasional old Vikings, but who’s really counting? And… I’m not really helping, am I?”

Hiccup shot the blacksmith a strained smile and shook his head, before turning his attention back to the bed. “I know what Gothi said, Gobber. Fishlegs translated her writing for me.”

“Ah, I see,” Gobber heave a sigh, taking his arm from around the boy’s shoulder and using it to rub the back of his head. His shoulders slumped down and if the Dragon Rider had tried to catch his eyes, he wouldn’t have been able to. “I didn’t want to worry ya and like I said, Jackson’s a strong lad, he’ll pull through.”

“And yet, Gothi thinks he might not make it all because he wasn’t born in Berk,” Hiccup whispered, his fingers digging into the material of blanket as he leaned forward, ducking his head. The chair placed by the bedside gave a slight squeak under him at the movement. “Logically, I know it wasn’t my fault. Jackson would have come with us even if I had noticed he was sick. He wouldn’t have listened to me. But, I still feel guilty. I don’t even know why this is affecting me so much. Snotlout and the twins got sick too.”

There was a stretch of silence vivid green eyes continued to watch Jackson shift under the mountain of blankets and murmuring something deliriously in his strange tongue.

“Hiccup, let’s go talk in the other room. We shouldn’t disturb Jackson,” Gobber motioned to the door with his head. When he didn’t get a response from Hiccup, the blond placed a hand on the teenager’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze prompting the boy to get up and followed him out of the room after a moment of hesitation.

Gobber guided him to the table where the stubborn Viking was forcefully pushed into one of the rickety chairs and left. While he waited, Hiccup leaned back in the chair to catch a glimpse of Jackson through the partially closed door. The desire to head back in strong, especially when he heard the Druid whine. Before he could get to his feet to go comfort Jackson, a loud thump had the Dragon Rider jerking his head back to the table to discovery Gobber dropping a bowl of gruel in front of him.

“Eat, you haven’t eaten all day,” Gobber instructed, taking the seat across from Hiccup.

The auburn haired youth stole one last glance through the door at Jackson and upon seeing that he had settled down, Hiccup picked up his spoon. The gruel was better than what they served in the Great Hall yet nowhere near as delicious as he was becoming used to with the brunet cooking for the Dragon Riders.   Regardless, he found himself inhaling the food not having realized how hungry he actually was until after the first bite.

“Hiccup,” Gobber started breaking the silence that had fallen over them. “You have always come to me with your problems instead of your father… well, mostly because your problem was making him proud of you, but it has given me the chance to watch you grow. To give you advice when you needed it and tell you when you’re the one in the wrong. It has given me great pleasure to be your mentor and help raise you knowing I’d never have any children of my own.”

Hiccup faintly smiled at the blacksmith, he had always saw Gobber as more of an uncle than his actual Uncle Spitelout. “I’ve felt the same about you Gobber, you’ve always been like an uncle to me. But, you’re still have time to have kids of your own. You’re not that old.”

“That’s not the reason, lad,” the blond shook his head – choosing to ignore the remark about his age – and took a deep breath. “I knew for a long time I would never have children of me own, because women never held any interest for me. Men on the other hand, they’re a different story.”

The teenager could feel his cheeks heating up, not sure how to tell this mentor he already knew and had been in the process of trying to get him and Finn together with Jackson and Astrid’s help. Instead, he chose to glance elsewhere and found himself looking through the half open door.

“Yer Dad already knows – has for a long time – and doesn’t care,” Gobber brought wide greens eyes back to him with the last statement.

“Uh, that’s great?” Hiccup offered, surprised his father already knew the blacksmith’s preference in partners – when he didn’t even have a clue – and accepted it.

“I am only saying this because I’ve known you all your life, Hiccup. I watched as you grew into yourself. I witnessed you pining over Astrid for years and stumbling over yourself trying to get her attention. Now that you have her attention, you haven’t pursued her. Instead, of courting her, you’ve become friends. Just friends, nothing more.”

“Uh…” the teenager shifted uncomfortably in his chair, now wishing more than ever to be back in the room with Jackson so he didn’t have to face Gobber with his love life.

“However, from day one you’ve been captivated Jackson and don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to pull information about the lad from me when he first came to the village. I knew what you were doing and played along. You seemed genuinely interested in Jackson,” the blacksmith smiled fondly at the memory, missing Hiccup’s bright red blush. “For what ends, I didn’t know then, but I kept an eye out just in case. I’ve watched you and him.

“You come to the forge and immediately look for Jackson, when you see him, you perk up. When he’s not around, you tend to look like me Aunty Rose when another one of her husbands disappear. You jump at the chance to be around him and I’ve seen more of you over at me hut than ever before and don’t go saying it’s for his cooking, no matter how delightful it is. There is a whole list – an actual list – of things I’ve seen, but the point I’m trying to make is you like Jackson.”

“Of course I like him, he’s my friend.”

“Hiccup, don’t be obtuse, you like him more than a friend,” the older Viking gave his apprentice a pointed look, knowing the chief’s son was not slow by any definition of the word. “You feel for him the same as you thought you felt for Astrid.”

“ _What?!_ No, _no_ I don’t. We’re just good friend,” Hiccup denied finding himself standing with his hands braced against the table and shaking his head vigorously.

“And you’ve sat by his bedside since we brought him here, haven’t even gone home to get a change of ye clothing,” Gobber continued on regardless of the denial. “Because that’s what you do with _just friends_ ,” Hiccup thought sarcasm really didn’t suit the blacksmith. “And what of the twins? Hmmm, or maybe even your cousin? All of them have the Eel Pox, but I don’t see you waiting at their bedside and Snotlout needed a double dose after the nonsense he was sprouting about. The twins needed a triple. So why aren’t you with either of them, eh?”

“That’s not the same! They’re just sick, they’ll get over it. Jackson might _die_!” the teenager shot back slamming a fist down on the table, making the bowls and utensils rattle.

Gobber wasn’t shaken the least by the uncharacteristic outburst from his apprentice. War weary eyes watched as Hiccup huffed, breathing heavily as he fought to regain his composure. Yet, green eyes never left the older Viking, daring him to say anything else. A dare he would gladly take if it meant knocking some sense into that thick skull.

“Then Gothi would have been a better choice to watch over him if anything happened. _You_ insisted she should go be with her niece and _you’d_ take her place in watching over Jackson,” the blond Viking countered with a calm even tone.

“I…I…,” Hiccup stutter, his actions finally dawning on the teenager which had him falling back into the chair behind him. He couldn’t explain his actions when he didn’t understand them himself. Slumping down further into his seat, Hiccup laid his head on the table with his arms curled around him.

“Hiccup, it’s alright to like Jackson,” the blacksmith gently reassured the boy, reaching across the table and patting him on the back. “There is nothing wrong with liking another man. There’s nothing to fear, your father won’t care. He’ll be happy as long as _you’re_ happy.”

“I don’t know, Gobber,” Hiccup confessed into the table because – now that he was being honest with Gobber and himself – he really did not know how he felt about the Druid. He thought they were just friends, but looking over everything they had gone through while examining his feelings, he wasn’t so sure himself. The slightly taller teenager had given him more than one scare with his ridiculous stunts. On the other hand, he had shown him such amazing things as well. “Even if I do like him – which I’m not saying I do, but _if I did_ – how will the village react? I’m the son of the chief and one day I’ll be chief too, if I did start courting Jackson, what will that do to the village? I _can’t_ be the first to be openly courting another male.”

“Hiccup, that’s all in the future. Don’t be caught up in the might haves and might have nots,” the blond snorted as he pulled the boy upright and tapping a finger over the Dragon Rider’s heart. “Follow your heart, it will lead you right.”

The teenager sat there before nodding his head numbly, not knowing what else to say. His mentor gave him a bigger smile and an exasperated shake of his head before picking up their dirty dishes, Hiccup to his thoughts. Well, as much as Gobber could leave him alone while still being in the same room as he cleaned their dishes while signing off key. The auburn haired teenager didn’t even mind, tuning the blacksmith out and looking towards the slightly opened door once more.

He could no longer see Jackson’s face, the Druid having rolled over onto his side during their talk, which only left the view of the back of his head. That alone had the Dragon Rider wanting to go in and check up on him. To make sure he was alright and still on Midgard, but at the same time he couldn’t force his legs to move. He felt like he was on Toothless, high up in the sky doing their more dangerous stunts only for his harness to snap and he was freefalling with no one to catch him.

“And Hiccup,” Gobber broke the silence once more, setting down the bowl he had been drying and bringing Hiccup’s attention back to him. The blacksmith turned around with a smile on his face which made him look years younger. “You won’t be the first one to be seen openly courting another male. That honor goes to me…well, me and Finn, but it’s all the same.”

Hiccup didn’t know how he ended up on the floor, but he found himself there starring at his mentor. “Wh-what?”

“Yeah,” the Viking forcefully laughed, scratching the back of his head with his prosthetic. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole village already knows by this time tomorrow. I kinda kissed him in front of the whole Great Hall while the fever from the Eel Pox didn’t have me thinking straight.”

“Yo- _you kissed him_ _in front of the whole Great Hall?_ ” the teenager sputtered, eyes going impossible wide as his mouth hanging opened without his consent. “What happened after that?”

“Kissing him full on the lips while I had flowers in my hair wasn’t as embarrassing as being told what I done seeing as I have no recollection of doing so,” Gobber mourned the fact he couldn’t remember the first kiss he shared with the Hofferson. “Don’t really know what happened after that. But when Finn relayed the story to me after the fever had lifted and I wanted a Whispering Death to come out of the ground and eat me. Glad it didn’t, because then I wouldn’t have gotten the kiss proceeded to give me. There was some cheering from those present, the twins being the loudest and your father was shaking his head but the only negative thing to happened was Spitelout telling us to go back to our huts.”

“How did I miss this?” vivid green eyes blinked rapidly as he pulled himself to his feet and righting the overturned chair.

“You were too busy fretting over Jackson to notice much of anything else,” a meaningful look was directed at the young Viking.

Hiccup squirmed under the gaze but didn’t say anything. His mind was in too much turmoil. The chief’s son couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so conflicted. It was before the dragons had come to stay on Berk as allies, that was for sure, but that seemed so long ago now.

He was saved from having to say anything when Toothless’s roar echoed out from the other room. The two Vikings froze before looking at each other and rushing into the adjacent room. Inside, they found Toothless sitting by the bed, whining softly as he attempted to calm the thrashing Druid. Jackson didn’t even seem to notice as he fought against the blankets holding him down.

Hiccup ran to his side, gently pushing the Night Fury back and grabbing the brunet’s shoulders to hold him down. He almost recoiled at the heat the slim body was giving off, knowing it was way higher than it had been previous.

“Hush, Jackson, calm down. It’s going to be fine, we just need you to calm down,” the auburn haired Viking spoke in a sooth voice, hoping his words got through to the Druid. He was startled when Jackson’s eyes flew open and for a brief moment, Hiccup thought they glowed but shoved it aside as a trick of the candle light. Instead, he focused on the words coming from the feverish burnet. He frowned when he realized the Druid was speaking in his native tongue. “Jackson, calm down, shhh. It’s going to be alright.”

But Jackson didn’t calm down, his struggling becoming desperate. One of his hands broke free of the blankets and grasping on to Hiccup’s fur vest as he continued to speak feverishly in the strange language. However, now there were a few words thrown in which he could understand. Mostly, he kept saying something about a storm and what sounded like Jokul Frosti but Hiccup couldn’t be sure. Finally, the Druid’s hold on his fur vest slackened as Gobber came back into the room carrying a cup of the medicine. When he had left the room, Hiccup didn’t know, but he was glad for the medicine.

Together, they worked to get Jackson to swallow a few mouthfuls. More seemed to end up running down the side of his face than they were able to get in him, but Gobber had thought it was enough. Toothless nudged at the brunet’s limp hand and his rider rubbed the dragon’s head to calm him down.

“You did good, Bud. Thanks you for alerting us,” Hiccup said before he followed the blacksmith out of the room.

“I wonder what set him off? The lad was doing fine up until that point, it’s very particular,” Gobber murmured as he set the cup of medicine back down on the counter.

“I don’t know, he kept saying something about a storm, but that was all I could really understand,” the Dragon Rider shrugged his shouldered as he took a seat back at the table. With his back turned to Gobber, he didn’t notice the blond stiffening only to quickly hobble over to the window a moment later. The skies were clear and there was a light breeze, nothing out of the ordinary.

“Blast it, why did I have to leave Grump at the forge tonight of all nights? Hiccup, I want you to go tell your dad to prepare for a storm. A very large storm.”

“What? Why?” Hiccup questioned already standing right back up. “This isn’t like you knowing when it’s fire season, is it?”

“Not me, but Jackson. Finn’s mentioned to me the lad would predict when the storms were to hit during Devastating Winter. He was always right and I fear he might have sensed another one coming our way now. There must be a large storm brewing to get through his fevered state,” Gobber answered limping over to the other side of the house.

“But it could just be the fever talking,” Hiccup tried to rationalize, following after the hobbling blacksmith.

“I don’t think it is,” Gobber shook his head and flung open the front door. He was just in time too, as a little blue ball of light came zipping into the hut, wildly zooming about before heading straight for the teenager, stopping an inch from his nose.

“Periwinkle?” Hiccup asked as the little Dewdrop Faerie frantically starting to chime and ring, attempting to communicate something very important which was lost on Viking ears. “Hey, hey, I can’t understand you and Jackson’s laid up right now.”

The blacksmith pushed his way forward, drawing Periwinkle’s attention to him. “There’s a storm coming, right? It’s a big one?”

The ball of light zipped up and down in confirmation as more chimes and high pitched rings were emitted.

“Hiccup, alert your father about the incoming storm.”

“Right,” Hiccup answered back, already headed to the other room to collect Toothless.


	37. Notions for Expansions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to give an excuse (because I've like a million and one of them), but let's just say RL got in the way. Sorry for not updating last week, hope this chapter makes up for it.
> 
> BlackMoonFantasy: I'm with you, Jack probably wouldn't believe it if Hiccup told him he liked him and Hiccup would've taken years to figure out his feelings for Jack if not for Gobber.
> 
> Night_Doctor: Thank you so much for the wonderful review. After the last couple of weeks I've had, it was something good and it cheered me up. So, thank you for loving Druid Jack and mentioning how seamlessly he fits into Berk because that's how I wanted it to come off.

“Get those yaks into the barn!” Stoick did his best to yell above the howling winds. It would seem his words got through seeing how Slight Sven rushed to grab the fleeing animals. Satisfied things were in hand here, the chief tugged on Thornado’s reins to move on and see to the rest of the village. Immediately, he spotted the longboats crashing against the docks while the waves swelled higher. “Someone, tighten the ropes on those longboats before they get washed out to sea.”

“Chief!” the shout had Stoick peering down at the blonde dot below which was Berk Guard’s commander, Huffnut Thorston. Flying closer, the Viking had Thornado land near the shieldmaiden. “Two of my scouts are missing along with three children. I’ve sent two more of my men out to look for them, but they haven’t reported back yet.”

“Alright, have Binn Hofferson take a small party to search for them. He’s the best tracker we have,” the chief ordered, green eyes drawn back to the ocean where the boats still hadn’t been secured.

“Sir, may I suggest his daughter, Astrid, be a part of the search part along with her dragon? An aerial search will reduce the amount of time,” Huffnut requested, her voice rising to be heard above the winds as they picked up.

Taking a moment to mull it over, the chief reluctantly nodded his head. “Have Snotlout and his dragon go along as well, I don’t want Astrid out there alone.”

“Yes sir,” Berk Guard’s commander bowed and left with hast to fulfill his commands while the Thunderdrum and his rider returned to the air.

Stoick cursed upon spotting one of the longboats being pulled out to sea, his earlier warning not having been heard, and he quickly gave chase. The winds hindering his sight as Thornado speed feet above the crashing waves, seawater whipping up and brutally slapped his face. Reaching the longboat turned out to be the easiest part though, figuring out how to get the boat back to shore was proving to be the difficult task.

Landing Thornado on the deck, Stoick looked around for a rope to tow the boat back to shore. For the most part, the deck had been cleared and the valuables had already been unloaded. However, a frayed piece of rope showed just how the longboat had gotten loose and it wasn’t due to negligence but a snapped line. A second rope tied to the bow hung overboard which he figured he could use to tow the boat in with yet the deck under him lurched before he could grab the line.

“What the?” the chief held back the curse, fighting to keep himself from falling over only to realize the longboat was moving on its own.

Regaining his balance, the chief quickly made his way over to the railing and looked out to see they moving against the waves, back to shore. Moreover, the once slacken rope was pulled taunt as something under the water had hold of the other end. Stoick rushed over to Thornado, throwing himself in the saddle and urging the dragon into the air where he looked down to see a darken shape below the ocean’s surface.

A great eruption had water spraying everywhere as a fully grown Scauldron’s head broke the surface. The other end of the rope held in the Tidal-class dragon’s mouth as it pulled the longboat into dock where Mulch was waiting. It didn’t take much for Thornado to navigate the harsher winds around the docks to land near the fisherman as the Scauldron tenderly handed the line to the awaiting fisherman.

“Nice catch, Scauldy,” Mulch praised the blue dragon, patting the Scauldron’s head as it let out a blissful grumble.

“Need any help here?” Stoick asked the other Viking, dismounting Thornado and walking over to Mulch’s side. All the while keeping an eye on the new dragon.

Mulch, having not noticed the chief landing behind him, jumped with a sharp yelp. His hand dropping the rope of the longboat which sunk into the raging waters below. The Scauldron dove back under the water, its dark shadow disappearing into the depths.

“Chief!” the shorter Viking gasped, holding his hand over his heart. “You scarred me. I uh…we’re almost all set here…just the one boat to secure.”

The Tidal-class dragon resurfaced with the rope once again and nudged Mulch in the back, gurgling slightly to get his attention.

“I see you got some more help around here,” Stoick commented drily, raising an eyebrow as he took in the giant blue dragon.

“Yeah, Scauldy’s been a big help and Bucket just loves her. Yer boy was gracious enough to give her to us. Made things a lot more easy when we’re out at sea. No more getting lost,” the fishermen prattled on, taking the rope from the dragon and working it into a complicated knot on one of the dock’s posts. He made sure to pull it extra tight, keeping the boat from bashing against the dock and insuring it wouldn’t be pulled out to sea again. He then began to double checking the rest of the longboats’ ropes while Scauldy swam around the other side of the boats, giving them her own inspection.

“And how’s Bucket?” the chief inquired, filing the bit about Hiccup giving a Tidal-class dragon to his fisherman for later. Now was not the time to question his son about the dragon’s origins, not when the storm warning was in affect and the winds were becoming violent.

“Hurting, his bucket is getting tighter by the minute. It’s going to be a bad storm,” Mulch let out a heavy sigh, having finished his inspection. Jerking his head towards the end of the docks where there was an alcove in the cliffs usually used to store cargo waiting to be loaded or taken up to the village but was cleared out saved for a lone cart at the moment. “He’s right over here.”

The chief strolled over to the alcove with Thornado on his heels and sure enough, Bucket was leaning up against the opposite side of the cart, clawing at the bucket on his head. However, it was what was in the cart which had Stoick raising one bushy red eyebrow. Piled high in the cart where various furs and blankets and underneath those furs and blankets was a sleeping brunet who had his arms wrapped around Sharpshot while one hand held his ever present staff even in sleep.

“Jackson? Why is he with you? I though he was stay at Gobber’s during his recovery,” Stoick turned to face Mulch, surprise seeping into his words while red eyebrows scrunched together in displeasure. The shorter Viking worriedly glanced over at the Druid before his eyes snapped back to his chief.

“Ah… well…. ya see chief… Gobber had to go to Finn’s hut to ah… help and see if there was any way to save the crops and took the twins with him,” Mulch stuttered, nervously rubbing his head. “He um… asked me and Bucket to watch Jackson until Hiccup and Fishlegs got back from making sure Gothi’s hut was secure for the storm and bring her down to stay with her brother. I…uh…we agreed, but then Norbert started yelling about the boats and…uh…Bucket and I brought him here?

“He was fine with it!” the fisherman blurted out to defend their actions. “Jackson told us we should help, encouraged us even and he would be fine by himself, but… ah… I could leave him there. It was Bucket’s idea to bring along the cart for him to ride in. Bucket always loves cart rides even when he’s sick, so it seemed like a good idea. But then Bucket’s bucket got too tight and Jackson kept him preoccupied with stories until the lad just fell asleep. I tried to hurry and get the boats secure, but then-”

“Mulch, you did the right thing. We would have lost many of our longboats if not for your and Bucket’s quick thinking,” the chief assured the nervous Viking. “But now is the time to get them both back inside and out of this weather, you hear me?”

“Yes chief,” Mulch let out a sigh of relief, nodding his head whole heartedly, not wanting to disappoint the chief any more.

“Good, get Bucket into the cart and take him inside,” Stoick instructed, picking up the tiny teenager – blankets and all – with no trouble. “I’ll take Jackson back to my hut and have Hiccup look after him when he gets back.”

“You sure chief? I can take care of the both of them,” the smaller Viking asked, still slightly on edge.

“I’m sure, don’t make me make that an order,” the chief chuckled, shifting the boy into a more comfortable possible in his arms.

“Uh, yes, right away sir. I mean, will do chief,” Mulch jumped into action, helping Bucket to his feet and leading him to the back of the cart.

“Come along Thornado,” Stoick called out as he began to walk up the numerous gangplanks to the village above. As he reached the turn in the path, he looked over to see Mulch giving the Scauldron – Scauldy he reminded himself – a large fish before sending her back into the sea while Bucket waving to the Tidal-class dragon with the hand not currently clutched to his bucket. “Hiccup, you’ve been holding out on me. You’ve got some explaining to do.”

“Hiccup,” Jackson mumbled softly causing the chief to look down and find the boy was still asleep. He murmured something more but it wasn’t anything the Viking understood before the child settled down, hugging Sharpshot closer to his chest. The green Terrible Terror opened one eye and looked around. Seeing Stoick, the tiny dragon yawned before snuggling his head under the brunet’s chin and going back to sleep.

“And not just about the Scauldron either,” the father muttered as he made the rest of the way up to pat to the village.

Stoick was slightly surprised to already see a Deadly Nadder and Monstrous Nightmare making their way into the village. However, a closer inspection revealed the two Outcast Island dragons Hiccup and Astrid had brought back, Flystorm and Firefang. Even from this distance, he could see the children on their backs with a few little balls of light circling around them. Huffnut was presently having her men clear a spot for the dragons to land before helping the children dismount the large creatures.

“Spitelout!” the chief shouted, spotting his second-in-command. His brother-in-law turned towards him, having interrupted his yelling match with Puffnut – which was probably in the man’s best interest since Puffnut was known for her temper – and didn’t quiet glare at him, but it was a close thing.

“Yes Stoick?” the dark haired Viking asked in displeasure.

“You’re in charge of making sure the preparations are complete. Puffnut, please make sure that everyone is in their huts or in the Great Hall if need be.”

“Getting too old to finish your duties?” Spitelout sneered under his breath, but not quietly enough. Stoick rolled his eyes and ignored the comment, especially when Puffnut _accidentally_ jabbed his brother-in-law in the side with her mace strapped to her hip when she bowed.

“Right away chief,” Puffnut said stood up straight, taking great pleasure when her mace struck Spitelout once more.

“Also Spitelout, if you see my son, let him know I’m looking for him,” Stoick called out as he walked away. He thought about stopping by the Academy to put Thornado into one of the stall for the night, but figured if it got too cold for the dragon, the Thunderdrum could sleep inside instead of his preferred sleeping spot behind the Haddock hut.

Once home, the chief looked around the bottom floor of the hut and frowned. There was no real room for the brunet to sleep down here and his room was currently filled to the brim with battle plans and tactic scattered about in the open – not that he didn’t trust the boy, but only his council and him were privy to those documents – which left heading upstairs to place Jackson in to Hiccup’s bed.

Other arrangements would have to be made later, but for now, the boy would sleep better on a comfortable bed and away from any noise which was no doubt to come when villagers would come in seeking guidance. He had left Spitelout in charge after all, there were going to be complaints.

“Keep him warm,” Stoick told the Terrible Terror who chirped in response and let out a fireball which lit the lantern Hiccup kept beside his bed. Nodding his head, the chief went downstairs and did busywork until the complaints started coming.

He didn’t have to wait long for there to be a knock at the door. “Come in!”

“Sir,” Huffnut bowed to the chief after closing the door behind her.

“Huffnut” Stoick greeted, grabbing a flagon along with two cups which he sat on the table. Poured the contents of flagon into the cups, he pushed one forward. “Here.”

“Thank you chief,” the Thorston acknowledged with a nod of her head, picking up the drink and taking a long drink of the sweet mead.

“You’re search went well?” the chief asked, taking the other cup and gulping it down in one go. The heat from the liquid warmed him up from the inside out, fighting off the chill of the cold winds.

“It was the fastest search and rescue mission I’ve ever been on,” the Commander of Berk Guard said, finishing off her mead and setting the cup back on the table. “I was able to track down, Binn and both he and his daughter were agreeable to help. Astrid retrieved the young Jorgenson and his dragon and Binn elected to go along with him while I rode with Astrid on her dragon

“Chief, I will admit I was hesitant,” Huffnut looked Stoick straight in the eyes and after a moment, he tipped his head in understanding. He remembered when he first started riding Thornado. After being taught since childhood to kill dragons, it was rather disconcerting to be putting his lift in the hands of a dragon. Regardless, flying with the Thunderdrum had put all those lingering worries about the fire breathing beasts behind him.

“However, the dragon was a huge asset in the search and rescue mission. We were able to find the children easily from the air; they had been rounding up a few of the wild dragons which live around the village like an escape herd of yaks. Astrid was able to use the dragons the children had collected to send them back while we continued to search for my missing men,” the commander reported in a brisk manner.

“I saw them head back on Flystorm and Firefang,” Stoick nodded, filling both cups back up and handing the full cup back to the blonde shieldmaiden.

“Yes, they were quite useful in that aspect as well,” Huffnut smiled, taking the offered cup. “Back to my missing scouts, I thought it would have been more of a challenge to find them which wasn’t the case. Astrid had the Deadly Nadder track the men by the scent of the metal they carried. It only took a moment before we were flying towards the mountains where we found the two scouts seeking shelter in one of the caves. We actually spent more time trying to all four of us to fit on the Deadly Nadder’s back than actually finding the scouts.

“Binn and the young Jorgenson had just as much success finding the other group of missing scouts. Although, from what I gathered, it was more due to Binn’s tracking abilities than the Monstrous Nightmare. Currently, all of my men are accounted for and are helping fortify the village for the upcoming storm,” Huffnut finished her report along with the second cup of mead.

“Good work Commander,” the chief praised. When she didn’t immediately bow and leave as she normally did, the Viking raised his eyebrow which was all the prompting she need.

“Sir, I would like to request Astrid and her dragon join the Berk Guard, her skills would be valuable,” the Thorston requested, her features not once changing even when his frowned deepened.

As a chief, he could understand where the Commander of Berk Guard was coming from and the merits of having the young Hofferson join the Guard would be well worth her joining despite her young age. As a father, he wanted to keep her far from the frontlines as possible, even though she and the rest of the Dragon Riders ended up there anyways seeing how they were the only ones who could match the dangers out there with their dragons. However, Stoick just wanted them to have a bit more of a childhood before forcing them into the complex and unforgiving life of an adult.

At the rate they were going, it would be his son and his chosen council which would be Berk’s only hope and not him.

“I’ll think about it, for now, you’re dismissed Huffnut,” Stoick waved the commander off, emptying the flagon into his cup and finished the mead off with one large gulp. Huffnut stayed a beat longer, gearing up as if she was going to protest his decision. Yet, she held her tongue and gave the chief a bow before exiting the hut. Sighing, the father of the Hero of Berk got up and cleaned the two cups before a soft tentative knock had him calling out for whoever it was to come in.

When no answer came, he turned around to see three children – even younger than his boy – standing near the door, looking very unsure of themselves. Putting on his best presentable smile which wouldn’t frighten the children, he motioned for them to come in further. The two boys looked at each other, but it was the little girl who took the first step with the others quickly following after her.

“Uh, chief, sir?” the girl spoke up, looking over at both of the boys on either side of her for support. “I… uh… I mean, _we_ were wondering if… uh-”

“Could we use some of the stables down at the Dragon Academy, please?” the boy to the girl’s left cut her off, spewing out their question. It took Stoick a moment to decipher what had been said due to the words flowing together, but when he did, he really looked over the trio of children. His eyebrows almost shot to his hairline when he noticed the two yellow Terrible Terrors – one cuddled in the blond boy’s arms and the other clutching to the back of his tunic – and the dirty clothing they each wore. The girl, on the other hand, had two balls of light barely hidden by her clothing and messy hair while the last one had what looked to be Snotlout’s old helmet.

“I take it you three were the children Commander Huffnut went looking for?” Stoick asked, causing the three to freeze up and the two boys to share a look of fear.

“Um, no sir… I mean, yes sir… Well, it wasn’t me Aunt Huffnut,” the boy with the Terrible Terrors started again, stumbling over his words. Although, it did clue him in on the identity of the boy: Snuffnut Fierce. “Ummm.”

“Sir, he wasn’t a part of that. It was me and Gustav who Astrid had to rescue,” the tiny girl in the middle spoke up. Causing Stoick to look at the child, it took him a moment, but he recognized the lass as Gothi’s niece.

The chief turned his attention from Snuffnut and towards the two other children, noticing they shrunk underneath his hard stare. “And what made the two of you run off during this horrible wind when we’re all preparing for the upcoming storm?”

“We were trying to help!” Gustav defended, crossing his arms over his chest in such a way it reminded the older Viking of his nephew. “Da told me to make ourselves useful and everyone had already gotten the other animals. We thought we’d round up the other dragons since Snotlout and the rest of the Dragon Riders were busy with other things.”

“We were also helping some of the Wyldfae,” Terrorthi piped up, “Jackson always said it’s good to help the Wyldfae, because they’ll help us in return when we need it.”

A small chime of agreement came from inside of the girl’s clothing.

“We aren’t in trouble, are we?” Gustav asked, shifting from foot to foot and looking over to his partners in crime.

Taking a deep breath, Stoick shook his head; clearly, the children had only been doing what they had thought was right. “This time? No, next time you tell someone where you’re going or taken an adult with you. If not, you’ll wish I had gone easy on you. Got it?”

“Yessir,” the three answered immediately, shaking their heads as both Terrible Terrors nodded their heads too and chimes of agreement came from Terrorthi’s clothes.

“Good, now go home and stay there,” the chief pointed towards the door. However, none of them made a move towards the door and Stoick found himself once more raising an eyebrow.

The three looked at each other, before Snuffnut spoke up once more. “Uh, chief, sir. Can we put Flystorm, Firefang, and the other dragons into the stalls before we head home?”

Sighing, he prayed to Odin to give him strengthen. “Yes, but you go right home after they’re in the stall; understood?”

“Understood,” they answered as one, each of them bowing to the chief before scampering to the door. They rushed out the door and passed Puffnut as she held up her hand to knock, which Stoick wasn’t sure if he could have heard over the growling howls of the wind.

“Hi Mom, bye Mom,” Snuffnut called out as he hastily made his retreat.

Nodding to the stunned woman, Stoick motioned for her to come in and close the door behind her. “What has Spitelout done now?”

The chief was glad that for once it wasn’t his brother-in-law that was the problem this time. Apparently, half of Dogsbreath the Duhbrain’s hut had caved in due to disrepair and he wouldn’t leave his house even though it wasn’t suitable for the upcoming storm. The Viking had cited it was a season too early for such a storm and he wasn’t moving because of some hocus-pocus prediction from a charlatan. It didn’t matter to him that Gothi had even predicted the storm herself, it only mattered to him that an outsider – and a boy at that –had predicted the storm first.

“Have Camicazi take care of him,” Stoick offered, knowing Dogsbreath would listen to her or get his ass handed to him. Puffnut nodded and opened the door to leave, allowing another two Vikings to enter. The rest of the evening continued the same and whenever he had a moment to himself, he’d check on Jackson before being called away again. On his third visit, he had found the burnet awake and looking around, but had only enough time to give him a quick rundown on what the boy had missed before there was another round of knocks at his door.

It was only a little after Piglegs left that his son finally made it back.

“Hi Dad, Spitelout said you were looking for me?” Hiccup spoke up once the Ingerman matriarch marched out of the hut. He was in the process of closing the door when Thornado pushed his way through and the auburn haired teen quickly opened to accommodate the Thunderdrum. Toothless, looked up from where he was sniffing the floor – most likely in search for food – and gave a low warble of greeting before going back to his search.

“Yes, it seems like this storm has brought to my attention how necessary your Dragon Riders are,” Stoick began as he worked to prepare supper for the evening. It was well into the night by now and he was starved; no doubt his teenaged son and Jackson would be as well.

“How so?” the Head of the Dragon Training Academy inquired, already pulling a large basket from the corner and dragging it over. He took the lid off and proceeded to spill the content of fish on the ground for the two dragons. Neither wasted any time before devouring their meal.

“As you probably heard, Piglegs was praising Iggy the Terrible Terror for helping round up all the chickens and wanted the Dragon Academy to train more dragons like Iggy for her benefit. My commander was impressed with Astrid and Stormfly’s ability to track down missing member of the Guard and wanted the two to join her ranks despite her age. Not to mention, Mulch and Bucket have been using a Scauldron, Scauldy, to assist them in their workload. A dragon, which I was told, was given to them by you,” Stoick said, leaving the food to cook for a moment and turning an accusing eye on his son. “Care to explain the last one?”

“Technically, Jackson gave Scauldy to Mulch and Bucket. I just gave them a few lessons on how to handle her,” Hiccup corrected and his father knew he wasn’t trying to place the blame elsewhere but telling the truth of the situation. Though how _Jackson_ got a Scauldron to give to his fishermen did raise a few more questions.

“And why did Jackson give a Scauldron to my fishermen?” Stoick turned back to the food and rotating the spit to keep the chicken from burning.

“She kinda followed us home after we saved her from Changewings during that one search for the Screaming Death. Jackson remembered how Bucket wanted a dragon of his own from the Skirll incident and she is a Tidal-class dragon, so I didn’t see any harm in allowing some of the best fishermen in Berk have her,” Hiccup shrugged as he sat down at the table.

His father took the food off the flames and began cutting the chicken into pieces, placing them on three different plates. “And what of the dragons liberated from Outcast Island?”

“Flystorm and Firefang?” the teenager questioned and his father gave him an affirmative nod. “Astrid and I have trained them a little. They’ve been helping to patrol the perimeter of the village.”

“And what do you plan to do with them?” Stoick pushed further, carrying two of the three plates to the table.

“I haven’t given the dragons out to anyone, if that’s what you’re asking,” Hiccup assured him, picking up a chicken leg and began to eat faster than normal.

“No, but that’s what I’m going to ask you to do,” the chief answered, not bothering to sit down. He got great pleasure out of watching his son nearly drop his chicken leg into his lap, coughing a few times to clear his throat.

“What?” the Dragon Rider fumbled to catch his food, putting it back on his plate as vivid green eyes – so much like his mother’s – looked upon hearing his father’s proclamation.

“I want you to expand the Academy. Give lessons to others Vikings every few days,” Stoick clarified to his gapping son. “I know Gobber really hasn’t mastered flying Grump and I would feel better if Mulch and Bucket had more lessons to take care of their Scauldron. It also wouldn’t hurt if Commander Huffnut joined the lessons, it would be better for Berk if the Guard if its commander had a dragon of her own. Flystorm would be a good match for her. There are a few others who would also benefit from having a dragon as well.”

“Uh,” the Head of the Academy opened and closed his mouth, clearly not knowing what to say.

Hiccup remembered the self-appointed labor intensity mission to get his father on a dragon, but he never thought about getting any of the other older Vikings on dragons as well. They were too set in their ways and now his father was pushing for him to get more of their people on dragons? It was too surreal.

“Don’t worry. I’ll set things up, you just have your riders ready to start training,” Stoick finalized, sitting down and beginning eating his meal before it got too cold.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” the teenager numbly nodded his head and went back to his own dinner. Only when he finished what the little which remained of his chicken did vivid green eyes turn back towards his father. “Um, Dad? For now, me and Toothless are gonna go to Gobber’s. To, ya know, make some plans for explaining the Academy.”

The chief nodded his head, but couldn’t keep from glancing at the third plate, a small smile forming on his face. “Mm’kay, but before you go, could ya take that plate upstairs to Jackson. He’s sure to be hungry by now.”

It was amusing to watch Hiccup’s head whipped towards his father, looking at him as if he hadn’t seen the man in years. “What?”

“Gobber went to Finn’s hut to see if there was a way to save his crops. I’m not sure if he back yet, but you can always try. If he is there and the storm gets worst, stay over there until it passes. It might be better that way, because Jackson’s currently using your bed,” Stoick explained nonchalantly despite his eyes fixated on his son, observing the teenager’s reaction.

Hiccup, for the most part, was rendered dazed for a split-second. “Wh-why is Jackson here?”

“Gobber asked Mulch and Bucket to watch over Jackson while he was gone. However, Mulch had his hands full with Bucket’s bucket getting too tight, so I took over. I was hoping to have you keep him company during the night but I can still look after him, if you want to go over to Gobber’s,” Stoick waved off as if it was no big deal that the _chief_ was talking care of the teenaged foreigner who technically wasn’t a part of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe.

“N-no, I’ll help. It no big deal, Gobber can wait until latter. He’s probably still busy anyways with Finn… uh… helping him that is,” Hiccup rabbled on before snapping his mouth shut.

“If you’re sure, I don’t mind,” the Viking grinned at his boy’s flustered state.

“No, I’ll stay with him. You should get some rest Dad. It’s been a long day, I can handle Jackson,” Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck, his checks turned bright red. Sadly, the auburn haired teenager hid the blush, ducking his head and grabbing the plate of food before making a hurried retreat up to his room, Toothless right on his heels.

“Definitely need to talk to Hiccup,” Stoick said to Thornado as they both listened to Jackson’s loud greeting echoed down followed by his son’s stuttered reply. “Just not tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stoick isn't as obvious as everyone thinks him to be. :) He is the chief after all.


	38. The Stuff of Dragon Riders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to say, I outlined this chapter way before Astrid's Team from Race to the Edge series. Hence that comment so long ago where I was bemoaning the fact my idea was actually used in the series. I wanted something original but then, they had to go and do it in the show. Oh, well, at least these Dragon Trainees are slightly different than the show and my OCs are back.
> 
> Is it just me, or does everyone like Gobber's and Stoick's reaction to Hiccup's crush? I was afraid people wouldn't find it believable, but no one said anything. (Not that I'm complaining, I was just surprised.)
> 
> YourKitchenCabinetsGhost: No, no Hiccup can't handle any form of crush, just look at him in the first movie/beginning of the series regarding Astrid. XP
> 
> Mihas: You'll just have to wait and see what happens. I'm not about to reveal how Hiccup will make a move or Jack's reaction, because that's telling. You're getting no spoilers from me.
> 
> P.S. I do not like the save without posting button right now, because I didn't realize I pushed that on Friday night until now.

“Uh, welcome to the Dragon Training Academy,” Hiccup spoke to the group of Vikings in a semicircle in front of him without stumbling over his words which was a miracle. When his father had said he’d get a few people together for Dragon Training, he hadn’t thought there would be so many. Thankfully, he had the rest of the Dragon Riders at his back, ready to aide him in teaching the new candidates for their Academy. “This Academy was born out of timing and necessity-”

“I thought Stoick gave it to us and said it was ‘just some Dragon Training Academy’,” Tuffnut interrupted from behind the auburn haired Dragon Rider. He didn’t have to turn to see Astrid elbowing the blond Viking in the side to know what was happening. Not when he heard Tuffnut’s grunt and Ruffnut’s giggling, Hiccup could envisage what had transpired behind his back from the countless of other occasion something similar had occurred.

“Not helping,” the Head of the Dragon Academy growled out under his breath, loud enough for those behind him to hear. Focusing his attention back on the Vikings before him, Hiccup addressed them, only a tad bit nervous. “I know we've been stuck inside for a four days straight because of this crazy weather and my father – uh, the chief that is – thought it would be best if we began the lessons now before we all started to go a little nuts. So before we begin, are there any questions?”

One of the Vikings in the back raised his hand and Hiccup encouraged the man to speak up.

“How is the weather not touching us in here?” the dark haired Viking asked, pointing at the dome of the arena. Normally, the snow would have been falling through the chain dome frame and piling high on the ground while the winds would be whipping about, bringing an even colder chill with them. However, looking up, one could see snow piled high over the otherwise open structure.

“Some Wyldfae made a temporary barrier using the dome as an anchor for the spell to keep the weather at bay for a few minutes. The dragons then melted the snow collecting on the barrier which was frozen by the winds into a more permanent ice dome that is currently keeping the elements out,” Jackson spoke up from where he was tucked away on top of a stack of wooden crates. His explanation ended with a sneeze and him pulling the furs wrapped around him closer to an attempt to starve off his shivers.

“What?” the villager asked, brows knitted together and scratching the side of his head.

Signing, the Druid shook his head. “Jokul Frosti did it.”

“Oh… okay! Why didn’t you just say so?” the dark haired Viking seemed to be appeased Jokul Frosti was to culprit.

Glancing one last time at Jackson, vivid green eyes turned to his mentor. “Uh, right okay, so since a few of you have your own dragons already, we’ll start there. Gobber.”

“Right,” the blacksmith took a step forward and motioned to the unmoving lump of dragon flesh left behind. “This is me dragon, Grump, he’s a Hotburple, not to mention lazy. But he’s good for helping me find new ore veins around Berk and keeping the forge lit.”

“Uh,” Hiccup coughed slightly to cover up the snort that escaped, “thank you Gobber, for that rather enlightening introduction. Ne-”

“Oh, oh, me next! Me next!” Bucket interrupted excitedly, waving his arms around. Hiccup – after a second of uncertainty – nodded to the fisherman who beamed brightly and directed everyone’s attention to the large Tidal-class dragon near the back of the arena. “That is Scauldy, the Scauldron. She helps me and Mulch by scaring fish into our nets and she pulls our boats when there are no winds and she play ball with me. She also really likes cooked cod.”

“That was a great intro Bucket, thank you. Now for those who do not have dragons, we are going to being practicing with some Terrible Terrors. Though, a few of you have already borrowed a Terrible Terror it would seem,” the Night Fury rider said spotting a few of the brightly colored dragons within the crowd. “Ho-”

Hiccup was once again cutoff, this time by a heavyset shieldmaiden with blonde hair in two pigtails and covered in armor. “That’s right, my beautiful baby boy trained Iggy here,” she lifted up the orange dragon she’d been smothering in her ample bosom, “he’s a Terrible Terror ya know and they’re supposed to be impossible to train, but my baby managed isn’t that right snookum?” the woman waved at Fishlegs who was currently trying to hide behind Meatlug in shame. Not that his mother seemed to noticed as she once more pulled the gasping Terrible Terror into a crushing hug. “I’m here to see my boy train dragons and learn how to train them. Although, I’m not too sure if I want a dragon of my own.”  

Taking pity on the purple looking Fishlegs, Finn stepped forwards next to Gobber and drew the Vikings’ attention to him. “It is good to hear, Piglegs, that I am not the only one hesitant to get a dragon of my own. However, since my niece has graciously allowed me to borrow her Terrible Terror, Sneaky, I too shall be learning the art of training dragons.”

At the mention of the Terrible Terror, the hunter motioned to the aqua colored dragon currently residing on top of Snotlout’s head. The Monstrous Nightmare rider turned to look for Sneaky, but when he didn’t see the dragon behind him he looked to the Dragon Riders on either side of him. Seeing that all eyes were fixated on him, blue eyes rolled up and found the Terrible Terror looking down at him. After a minor freaked out, where Snotlout threw his hands up in an attempt to get the dragon off his helmet, Astrid moved forward.

“However, there are a few of you who will be working with some of the larger dragons. The chief had asked use to pair Commander Huffnut of the Berk Guard with Flystorm,” the shieldmaiden took over gesturing to Ruffnut who was guiding a mostly orange and pale green Deadly Nadder with a tad of blue around the dragon’s nose with her.

“And Firefang with Berk’s Guild Head, Typhan,” Snotlout said, pointing to the magenta and yellowish orange Monstrous Nightmare Tuffnut was straining to pull along after him.

“Now that we know who has dragons we can assign the remaining Terrible Terrors-,” Hiccup started, only to be interrupted yet again. This time by one of the only three children present at the gathering.

“Wait! We have dragons too!” Snuffnut said, taking a step forward with Head and Butt held in each of his arms.

“I take it you too have Terrible Terrors?” Fishlegs asked patronizingly the little one as he reached out to tickle the little yellow Terrible Terror which proved to be a mistake as the little beast turned around bite his finger.

“No silly. Uncle Tuffnut and Aunt Ruffnut are allowing Mom to practice training dragons with Head and Butt,” the blonde Viking shook his head, motioning to his mother standing behind him. “I’m just holding them. The chief let us put our dragons in the empty pens. We can show you.”

“Awe, why don’t you show us these dragons?” the heavyset Dragon Rider cooed, completely missing the shared looks the twin gave each other and Jackson’s chuckles which turned into coughs. Snuffnut nodded his head and gave Head and Butt to Puffnut before scurrying over to one of the closed stalls with Gustav and Terrorthi. Together, three children were able to pry open the large door without any of the adults’ help. “We’ve been playing with four dragons and so, Uncle Gruffnut volunteered to try to partner with Skully the Dracolich.”

“By Thor,” Gobber squeaked, eyes fixated on the large dragon stomping out of the stall on two feet, spreading its massive wings and shaking. With every move it made, there was the sound of crackling from the bones that covered the dragon from head to the huge concentration of bones forming a club at the end of its tail. The two large bone horns coming from the top of the dragon’s head almost touched the ground as the Mystery-class dragon lowered its head to allow Snuffnut to scratch the underside of its jawbone.

“Isn’t that-” Fishlegs squealed pointing at the Boneknapper as it trotted forward and bumped its skull covered head against the stunned blond blacksmith.

Hiccup nodded, forgetting how to breath for a moment. “That would be Gobber’s Nemesis, the Boneknapper.”

“He’s a fine dragon,” Gruffnut commented, walking over to the boney dragon and inspecting the large creature. The Boneknapper in turned looked the Viking over as well and when Snuffnut went over to his Uncle’s side, the Mystery-class dragon nodded in his direction.

“Fellow Dragon Riders, I'd like you all to meet my dragon, Fanghook,” Gustav was already at another of the stall doors, pulling it opened to reveal a smaller yellow and purple version of Hookfang. The adolescent Monstrous Nightmare zigzags around the arena and ended up running into Hookfang who roared in the upstart’s face, sending Fanghook tumbling backwards.

“Fanghook? Are you serious?” Snotlout moans out, slapping his hand over his face. “Don't you have any respect for authority?”

“Weren’t you the one to teach him his defiance of authority?” Jackson asked, waving his staff about feebly making the crystal and dragon scale clattered against each other.

“No,” the Monstrous Nightmare rider denied crossing his arms over his chest and turning away from the group as a whole.

“Uncle Tuffnut helped me with finding my dragon,” Snuffnut said, opening another stall with Terrorthi’s help. Another huge dragon covered in orange and yellow scales stepped out from inside, his wings larger than that of the Boneknapper’s while his head looked like a skull being completely white with two large horns on top of his head and a large than usual nose horn for a dragon. Spines started just above orange eyes and went all the way down to the tip of its long tail.

“Torch?” Hiccup blinked to make sure he wasn’t see the dragon currently making a beeline towards him. But nope, Torch was still there and Toothless wasn’t happy with the younger dragon’s presence. The Night Fury went so far as jumping between his rider and the other dragon, growling. The larger of the two dragons growled right back, not backing off, just as he’d done as a hatchling when the two meet the first time. Placing a pacifying hand on Toothless’s head, the Head of the Academy turned to Tuffnut. “You got your nephew a Typhoomerang?”

“Yeah, isn’t it great?” and the auburn haired teenager really wanted to speak with the twins about the importance of matching dragon with rider when it came to pairing Viking with dragon, because this? This was a lot of dragon for a little child.

“We’ve got more to worry about Hiccup,” Fishlegs tugged on Hiccup’s fur vest and pointing to the last dragon the children had gathered. “Look.”

“This is Neðan” Terrorthi introduced the last dragon lurking in the darkened part of the stall and it was then the Head of the Dragon Academy realized Toothless hadn’t been going after Torch, but at the Whispering Death housed with the Typhoomerang. Torch had just gotten between them to keep Toothless from attacking the particular dragon Hiccup recognized as the rival of the Night Fury. The distinctive bite mark from Toothless just furthered his conclusion.

“Crap,” the Night Fury rider moaned as the two dragons growled threateningly at each other, attacks building up in their throats, while Torch tried to keep them separated. However, when a fireball hit mere inches from each of the dragons’ feet, all attention turned towards Jackson. More particularly, at the green Terrible Terror resting at the base of the crate, looking innocently at everyone staring at him and chirped before scurrying up the crates to hide behind the brunet.

“None of that or else the heat will melt the ice above and we’ll all be buried under the snow. Hiccup, continue,” the Druid coughed out, covering his mouth with the arm warmer on his left arm and waving Hiccup to go on with his free hand.

Nodding his head in gratitude, the chief’s son pulled Toothless back to his side and returned his attention to the group of Vikings recruits. “Yes, well now that there are dragons to work with, the first step is to establish a bond with your dragon. We usually do this by giving them a name, but since all the dragons seem to have names, we’re going to move on to the next step.

“Next, you need to reach out your hand, but don’t look at the dragon. They see it as a challenge and will attack. Instead, hold out your hand and look to the side, leave some space so the dragon has to reach out as well. This will establish a link between dragon and Dragon Rider.”

“Like this,” Ruffnut demonstrated holding her hand out to Scauldy which the Tidal-class dragon was happy to rub her head against the blonde Viking offered hand.

“Exactly, thank you Ruffnut,” Hiccup smiled, a little surprised at Ruffnut’s assistance. “Now, I know some of you already have a bond with your dragon, but for those of you that don’t we’re all going to go through this exercise. The Dragon Riders will help you through it.”

Turning towards his friends, the Head of the Academy nodded to the blonde shieldmaiden. “Astrid, I want you to help the commander with Flystorm.”

“And you want me to help Typhan with Firefang,” Snotlout cut in on his cousin, jabbing a thumb at himself.

“Actually, no, I want you to help Gustav with Fanghook,” Hiccup corrected, “Tuffnut, I’m leaving Snuffnut and Torch with you. Ruffnut, Scauldy, Mulch, and Bucket will be your responsibility and Fishlegs, you help those with Terrible Terrors.”

“Uh, couldn’t I help Gruffnut with the Boneknapper, he might need my help more,” the heavyset Dragon Rider nervously suggested, glancing over at his mother hugging the life out of Iggy.

“No, I’m going to have Gobber work with Gruffnut while I help Terrorthi with – uh – the Whispering Death. Jackson, if you don’t mind and are feeling up to it, could you help Typhan with Firefang?” the chief’s son turned his attention to the Druid on top of the crates.

“Sure,” Jackson nodding his head, grinning ever so slightly before sneezing once more.

“Alright, just help the others work on forming a bond, a friendship,” Hiccup gave them once last advice before the Dragon Riders broke and headed over to their assigned students. The Druid, though, stayed on top of the crates at Hiccup’s insistence. “I’ll bring Typhan over here with Firefang, Toothless will stay and help, just in case anything might get out of hand,” not to mention he didn’t want the Night Fury and Whispering Death anywhere near each other right now. “Okay?”

“Sounds good to me,” Jackson agreed pulling the fur closer around him. Before the Night Fury rider left, amber eyes caught vivid green and give him an encouraging smile. “And Hiccup, you’re doing really well. I know this wasn’t your idea, but you’re making the best of a bad situation. Just look on the bright side.”

“Uh… thank you,” the auburn haired teenager returned the smile, hoping there weren’t any traces of the blush he was fighting to keep off visible on his face.

The Druid smiled as the winds – and how the winds seemingly got through the impenetrable snow barrier, Hiccup had no idea – whipped around and ruffled the brunet’s dark hair.   “You should listen to me more often then. I’m always right. Now bring me my student, O’Mighty Dragon Trainer.”

Smiling, the Night Fury rider shook his head in amusement. “I shall, Great Druid of the Taliesin clan.”

As Hiccup walked away, Sharpshot flew over to him and landed on his shoulder, nipping at his ear and chirping all through his short talk with Typhan. After filling in the Head of Berk’s Craft Guide on who he was to work with, Hiccup lead Typhan over to Jackson who’d was seemingly bribing Firefang to sit still with treats. However, one the Monstrous Nightmare noticed their approached, he began glaring and growling.

The Head of the Academy was taken back at the sudden change in the usually calm Stocker-class dragon, and he’d wanted to stayed to help. However, Jackson was already waving Hiccup off, wishing him luck with the Whispering Death and Terrorthi. Still, the Night Fury rider hesitated when Typhan took a step forward and Firefang’s growling grew louder.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Hiccup reluctantly moved on, patting Toothless on the head before making his way over to his student.

* * *

Jack coughed into his fist before pulling shifting the fur blanket for what seemed like the thousandth time. Sniffling, he took the time to look over Berk’s Craft Guild Master. Unlike any of the Vikings he had seen, this man wore not a stitch of armor, his clothing consisted of dark draping fabrics made from materials clearly not common to Berk. There were tassels and decorative ropes attached in various places on his clothing with multiple pieces of shinning bits and bobs that twinkled in the lights decorating his clothing. His hair was long and matted like the other Vikings, but it was so dark it stood out with all the fairer haired villagers. However, it was his eyes which held Jack’s attention, others would call them dark brown, but to him they were a fathomless black.

“So, where do we begin?” the man’s voice was soft, almost as if he was whispering, but still loud enough for Jack to hear.

Sneezing once more, the brunet stretched out. He was planning to climb down off the crates, but his path was blocked by Toothless as the dragon came between the ground and the crates. Even Firefang, who’s growls had subsided, started up once again when he attempted to approach the older man. Sighing in defeat, the brunet stayed where he was at, appeasing the two Creatures of Magic.

“Gaining trust,” Jack answered, eyeing the light breeze which was ruffling the dark haired man’s clothing, making the little bits and bobs on the fabric glitter intensely.

“Very well,” Typhan nodded his head before extending his hand like Ruffnut had showed them. However, unlike the young blonde Dragon Rider, he looked right at Toothless and didn’t seem be affected when the Night Fury hunkered down, teeth breaking through the gums where they usually resided unseen. At least the Master Craftsman was smart enough to pull his hand back in time to avoid losing his hand as the dragon snapped at the offending appendage.

“They don’t seem to like you,” amber eyes narrowed.

“It seems not,” the man replied, tucking his hand back into the opposing long flowing sleeves. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“One,” Jackson had to stop and cover his mouth as a coughing fit hit him. Once he could breathe again, the brunet eyed the man as his clothing swayed in the breeze around him while in turn, fathomless black eyes watched the winds ruffle brown locks in a comforting gesture. Finally, Jackson jabbed his staff in the general direction of the craftsman, accusingly. “Stop messing with the winds.”

The man raised an eyebrow and seemed to really look at him instead of through him. “Whatever do you mean child?”

“I mean, stop conjuring your harsh, unnatural winds. Being Creatures of Magic, dragons are more sensitive to the manipulations you’re causing,” the Druid answered, shifting his hand and twirled a finger around. While he wasn’t using any magic to control the elements, the winds were happy to oblige his silent request. They swirled around him before bring a small flurry of snow from outside the arena, through the opening, and dropping the cold powder into his awaiting hands.

“I apologize for my insensitive,” the craftsman said as his clothing finally fell still. “I did not realize it was my solar winds which were upsetting the dragons.”

“You’re not from around here, are you?” the brunet asked, packing the snow into a ball and lobbing it with deadly accuracy. It hit the back of Ruffnut’s head, who turned and glared at her brother before tackling him to the ground.

“No, I arrived on a Galleon years ago, having been captured by pirates. The chief of this village was nice enough to offer me a place to stay and healed the injuries I had sustained,” the man replied, as he absentmindedly rubbed his eyes. Yet it was his words which had Jack sitting upright and closely examining him, a calculating look in his eyes.

“Where are you from?” the ex-spirit asked, the accusations no longer lacing his voice as he lazily spun his staff in between his fingers.

“I’m from very far away, a place I’m sure you haven’t heard of,” the man answered, without really answering.

“Hmm,” Jack murmured and nodded, going along with the obvious evasive technique; a cheeky grin blooming on his face. “You know, I’ve heard of human becoming Constellations, but I’ve never heard of a Constellation becoming human. How’d that happen? Did it have something to do with the Dream Pirates? And when you say the chief welcomed you, I’m thinking it wasn’t Stoick the Vast, now was it?”

His questions caused the man to snap his head up and the air to becoming uncomfortable warm, which only had the two dragons who’d relaxed at the lack of solar winds, tensing up again. “You would be correct in your assumptions. It was Hiccup Haddock the First which offered his hospitality to me. Now, I think the appropriate question would be _who_ – or _what_ – are?”

“Calm down Toothless, he’s okay. If I’m not mistaken, he is the Titan Constellation Typhan. The God of Storms. Well, solar storms, but here on Midgard, the most he could make would be a small tempest,” Jack reassured the Night Fury, finally sliding down off the crate and standing between the two dragons. Toothless creased his growls when the Druid laid a hand on his back, but that didn’t stop him from glaring at the craftsman. “I’m Jackson Overland, ex-Guardian of Childhood – or future Guardian of Fun, depending on how you look at it – chosen by Tsar Lunar XII.”

“Guardian? Similar to the Tsar’s guardian Nightlight?” Typhan inquired, head angling to the side as he glanced up to where the moon would be if the ice dome wasn’t in the way.

“Conceptually, yes. Only, the Guardians of Childhood protect all the children on Midgard,” Jack clarified as he shuffled over to Firefang and pulling out a dragon treat from his pouch. Holding it up to the grumbling Monstrous Nightmare, the dragon eyed it before eying Typhan. He finally decided his stomach was more important than growling at the Titan Constellation and gobbled the offered treat up.

“Yet you said you were an ex-Guardian but will be one again? How do you know this?” the older man asked, black orbs fixated on the large dragon he was supposed to be making a bond with but was currently putty in the brunet’s hands.

“Let’s just say, me and time are not getting along right now,” Jack shrugged, his grip tightening on his staff as he pulled the heavy furs tighter around his shoulders.

“Ah, I see. I will ask no more to avoid any paradoxes,” Typhan hummed in understanding. Reaching his hand out to touch the distracted Monstrous Nightmare, the Titan Constellation halted when yellow eyes snapped in his direction. Letting out a growl of warning, Firefang began to flame up before dousing his flames due to the bribed of another dragon treat. “Why don’t we proceed with the dragon training? I find myself fascinated by these creatures. Yet, they don’t seem to like me.”

“I think they sense that you’re not from Midgard, being Creatures of Magic they’re sensitive to that sort of thing. Your solar winds also aren’t helping any. But, I think we can work around the differences, right Toothless?” Jack asked the Night Fury who just sneezed and shook his head. “Oh, don’t be like that. Typhan is an ally.”  

“It seems he disagrees with you,” Typhan chuckled when Toothless bared his teeth at the Craft Guild Master.

The brunet waved off the dragon’s attitude with his staff, explaining between a coughing fit. “Don’t mind him, he’s hard to win over. Firefang, however, he’ll be easier.”

“You seem unwell,” the craftsman said, looking a little concerned for Jack’s wellbeing.

“Just getting over the Eel Pox,” the ex-spirit disregarded the worry directed towards him. He reached into his pouch and produced a handful of dragon treats which were passed over to the raven haired man. “Here, these will help move things along. As Snotlout has pointed out with his Monstrous Nightmares, feeding time is bonding time for a dragon and his rider, and that’s how we’re going to start off your bond with Firefang.”

Taking the food, Typhan offered one to the Stocker-class dragon. Food won over in the end and Firefang finally took the treat from the patient man. The process was repeated again and again until the dragon was taking the treats without hesitation. Once they were all gone, the former Constellation held out his hand to Firefang, this time not looking the dragon in the eyes, and was rewarded with Firefang placing his maw into the offered hand.

“Great!” Jack excitedly exclaimed from on top of the crates once more. Toothless curled up behind him, keeping the slight shivers – which slowly crept on to the Druid during the training – at bay.

“That’s very good,” Hiccup commented, coming to stand with them and looking over at Firefang. He gave a nod to Typhan and then turned to address the whole crowd of Vikings. “You’ve all done well today. I’m not saying you’re a Dragon Rider just yet, but you’ve made the first step on the rocky road that we – the members of the Academy – have had to travel. We had to learn how to be Dragon Riders the only way we knew how, by doing. To truly become a Dragon Rider of Berk, the rider needs experience, the dragon needs experience and the rider and the dragon need experience working together as one unit.

“I’m happy to say, class is over for today. Tomorrow, we’ll reconvene and move on to our next lesson. Now, it’s time to put the dragons back into their pens and feed them before going back to your huts before we get snowed in the arena.”

The Academy members proceeded to assist the younger children in put the bigger dragons into their stalls for the night and feeding them. Those with Terrible Terrors returned them to their respective Dragon Rider while the Vikings headed out. Seeing that the others had everything taken care of, Hiccup turned his attention to the Craft Guild’s Head and the Druid.

“Thank you for your help, I would appreciate your assistance further in the future,” Typhan expressed his gratitude, giving Jack a slight bow before giving a deeper one to Hiccup. “I shall put Firefang back into his stall and feed him. It might be best if you get inside and warmed up.”

“I shall make sure he gets there safely,” Hiccup agreed as Toothless nudged Jack to get him off the crates.


	39. The Frozen Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caitycaterpillar: You are right, there are not enough slow burn HiJack longfics out there. We need more people to write them! Rally the troops- er-Writers!
> 
> Malaayna: Yea! Someone caught the D&D reference! I actually don't remember how many references to other fandoms I've now made, but I'm thrilled whenever someone points them out and says I understand that reference.
> 
> BlackMoonFantasy: You and I are on the same wavelength, Jack has spent centuries neglected and people just don't get over that magically (okay, maybe they do if there's is magic involved, but otherwise, no, that's not how our brains are wired). Also, I'm glad you can log in to your account again, I hate when my accounts freeze me out (which happens too often sometimes).
> 
> Telidina: You're welcome for the update, it's always nice to know you (and Malaayna) hung around because the both of you are a few of my first reviewers who've constantly sent me reviews and encouragement and to know you guys are sticking with me for this long is a blessing. Thank you!

“How’s it coming along here?” Hiccup asked, walking over to the small group of Terrible Terror trainers. Really, they did not need that much of help, since the Terrors were already trained to some extent. However, the new trainers were unused to working with dragons and the problems came more in part from the Vikings than the dragons.

“Oh, we’re so good! My little wookums is such a great teacher. He’s been able to give us all pointers even though he has so many students,” Piglegs cooed, hugging her son to her bosom. Although, to him it looked more like she was suffocating the Gronckle rider while slowly killing him from embarrassment. Iggy was smart enough to fly out of reach and land of Toothless’s back when the woman’s eyes turned on him.

“Uh,” the Head of the Academy stumbled, shifting from foot to foot trying to figure out what to do. Today marked the third day in a row the Dragon Riders were teaching some of the other Vikings about proper dragon relationships and how to care for dragons. Under different circumstances, the older Vikings would not have been able to put in as many hours as they had in the last few days learning about dragon care, but with the storm still strongly raging on and it kept them from going stir crazy.

“We’re good Hiccup,” Finn supplied, petting the aqua Terrible Terror on his arm. “Sneaky has even learned a few new tricks.”

“I too am satisfied with the progress I have made with Head and Butt. I’ve learned a lot of hand signals thanks to Fishlegs’s coaching,” Puffnut commented, nodding to the two yellow dragons circling around the small group. Pointing at Tuffnut and making a small hand gesture, the two Terrible Terrors screeched and proceeded to dart over to the woman’s youngest brother. Butt snatching his helmet off his head while Head grabbed one of his blond locks with his teeth and kept him back from chasing after Butt.

“That’s good,” Hiccup nodded, moving on to the next group. Toothless took a moment to growl something at Iggy, the tiny dragon gurgled back before taking flight and landing on Piglegs’s shoulder, before catching up to be by his rider’s the side. Together, they made their rounds to make sure the trainees were all well taken care of and handing out a few pointers of his own.

His last stop was at Jackson and his trainees, Typhan and Terrorthi – the second being thrusted upon him when Hiccup had to leave the young girl to help calm down Flystorm – and their dragons. As he walked over to them, a smile spread across his face noticing that the fur blanket the Druid had been using for extra warmth was draped over the side of some barrels and he was standing tall, using his staff to scratch Firefang behind his horns instead of leaning heavily on it. Other than the occasional sneeze, it appeared Jackson was fully recovered from the Eel Pox.

“How are things progressing here?” Hiccup asked, happy to see that neither Toothless nor Neðan were attempting to lunge at each other. They still didn’t like each other, but they were at least being civil. It was an improvement.

“We’ve found out Whispering Death’s aren’t affected by Dragon Nip,” Terrorthi answered, holding up some of Jackson’s dragon treats. “They are affected by fossilized fish though. And, uh, we might owe Master Typhan some compensation for his wears being eaten.”

“It is of no concern to me,” the Guild Master dismissed patting the Whispering Death on the head, which was a real improvement since he only let Terrorthi around him. “At least we got this one to open up to us.”

“He likes me the best! I brushed his teeth,” the young girl beamed, holding up a scrub brush which was pilfered from her hands by Firefang. The Monstrous Nightmare proceeded to throw the object up into the air for Sharpshot to catch who in turn, took the brush back to an unfazed Terrorthi. “And we also learned Firefang likes playing catch with Sharpshot.”

“Neðan also seems to be addicted to theses. I would say they’re the equivalent to Dragon Nip for Whispering Deaths,” Jackson contributed, holding up a small brown and green marbled rock and threw it up into the air. The Whispering Death immediately lunged for the pebble and snapped it out of the air, purring as it devoured the treat.

“What is that?” Hiccup asked eying Neðan who was purring and rubbing himself up against the Druid in hopes of gaining more treats.

“Know the pond we created during the whole Flightmare incident?”

“How can I forget?” Hiccup answered drily, the tips of his ears turning red at the Druid’s delighted laughs.

“Well, I’ve been drying some of the algae from the pond to make treats for the dragons,” Jackson explained, pulling out some dried pellet treats to show the Night Fury rider before tossing them to Firefang, who devoured them. “However, while I was pulling out some of the dead algae to use, I found these greenish-brown rocks growing in the middle of the dead algae. I didn’t think anything of it until Neðan almost ate my pouch trying to get to it.”

“That definitely needs to be put in _The Book of Dragons_ ,” Hiccup commented, watching as Neðan became poddy in the Druid’s hands. “What should we call it?”

“Algaenite?” Terrorthi offered.

“I like it,” Jackson said, ruffling the girl’s hair, causing her to giggle and grin up at her hero. “You heard the girl, Algaenite it is.”

The chief’s son chuckled along as well. “Algenite it is then.”

“Odin's ghost, it's cold out there! Worst freeze in the history of Berk! My beard is frozen solid,” Stoick’s voice broke into the conversation as the chief came through the entrance of the arena, brushing snow off of his armor. Thornado had an easier time ridding himself of the snow. Shaking his body sent white flakes flying off of him and on to his rider, coating him in yet another layer of snow. Stoick gave the Thunderdrum a disapproving look and shook his head, green eyes scanning the Academy only to land on Hiccup. “Son, we need to talk.”

“I’ll be right back,” the Night Fury rider nodded to the group to continue with what they had going on and walked over to the corner of the arena to talk with his father. “So, Father, what bring you to the Academy?”

“Trader Johann hasn't reported to port. If he's trapped out in this storm, he won't last the night. I was thinking of having you and Toothless go since Toothless can help find Johann's ship in the darkness,” Stoick got straight down to business.

“Ehh, I don't know...,” Hiccup replied hesitantly, glancing back at his trainees.

He had to suppress a snort when he saw four dragons all lined up and sitting very majestically as they begged for treats from Jackson. What was more entertaining was that both Toothless and Neðan were trying to one up each other, sitting up higher and higher trying to be the tallest when Firefang perked up and won with no competition. Although, it was Sharpshot who finally broke rank and flew at the brunet. Jackson was quick to give them all the treats to get the Terrible Terror away from his face.

Turning back to his father, he gave him a sheepish smile. “We’re still working on gaining trust between the new trainees and the dragons. There have been a few problems with Flystorm and the Guard Commander and I wouldn’t want to leave in case I was needed.”

“I’m sure they’ll mange without you and Astrid seems to be handling Huffnut and Flystorm fine now,” the chief commented, looking over to where the two shieldmaidens were grooming both Deadly Nadders’s tails. Astrid occasional stopping what she was doing to correct the Guard Commander brushstrokes. His eyes then swept over the rest of the Dragon Rider trainees – all of whom were grooming their dragons in different manors – before his gaze came across the last group and rested on the blue cloaked figure scratching Toothless underneath his chin. “Unless there’s another reason you don’t want to go?”

Hiccup glance back behind him one more time, his cheeks flushing a little bit red before snapping back to look at his father. “Uh, no… I-I can go.”

“Bolt the door behind you when you leave, please,” Stoick patted his son on the shoulder and pushing him on his way. He watched as the young teenager went to first inform the group Jackson was in what was going on and collect a reluctant Night Fury before heading over to Astrid to do the same. “Still need to talk to him about that.”

* * *

Hiccup was thankful for the extra fur blanket which Jackson had thrusted upon him before they left. His hands had been shaking as he put on his riding harness and tried to clip the safeties onto Toothless’s saddle. He would have preferred to stay inside the Dragon Training Academy where it was warm thanks to the faeries and dragons enclosing the structure.

Still, someone needed to find Trader Johann and bring him back to port. Though he hated to admit it, Toothless was the best dragon for the job. The Night Fury excelled in the dark and could find their target through their echolocation – as Jackson called it – and Toothless was the fastest dragon on Berk. Therefore, it was up to them to find Trader Johann’s longboat and get the man back to the village before he froze to death.

“It's pretty dark out here, Bud,” the Night Fury rider commented as the rest of the dusk’s light disappeared, leaving them in the true darkness of a cloudy night. Patting the dragon between his ear-plates, the auburn haired teenager leaned closer to reduce the full on assault of the cold night air. “Do your thing.”

Toothless gurgled before letting out a massive roar. His ear-plates twitching every which way for a few moments before he changed directions ever so slightly – Hiccup changing the tailfin’s position without thought to accommodate their new speed – and flew lower to the ocean. It took a moment for Hiccup’s eyes to make out what his mind had already deemed different. It was when he couldn’t see the rolling waves and had to really focus that he realized the waters were frozen in thick layers of ice sheets.

“Wow!” the chief’s son murmured, amazed at the sheer number of sheets of ice. “Look at that. I've never seen the ocean frozen solid before. No wonder Trader Johann can't get to port. No one could get through this.”

The Night Fury grumbled and Hiccup rubbed him. “I mean no one but you, Bud. Come on, let’s find Trader Johann and get back to Berk. Jackson promised to make stew for everyone.”

Toothless’s ear-plates perked up, before he let out another loud roar and looked around trying to find the missing trader all the quicker. They flew for a while in silence before the wind started to pick up again, blowing a thick layer of fog in. The Night Fury tried to avoid it by flying higher, but they couldn’t escape the fogbank. Hiccup was just glad Toothless could see, since he definitely couldn’t.

The groans of ice hitting ice below were momentarily replaced by high pitch shrieks and no matter how hard he looked, the Dragon Rider couldn’t see a thing. His dragon could, judging by the growls he emitting and the way his ear-plates lay flat against his head. Just as quickly as the high pitch shrieks started up, they died down.

“Whoa!” Hiccup strained to see through the fogbank, failing miserably. “I don't know what that was, Bud, but I'm glad we're up here and it's down there.”

Toothless grunted before roaring again and speeding up slightly. The auburn haired teen noted the tense muscles of the Night Fury had yet to relax for some time after the strange noises and his roars had become louder and more frequent. In Hiccup’s opinion, Toothless was on edge. From what, he didn’t know but he made various attempts to soothe the dragon by rubbing his sides and murmuring soft encouragements.

Sadly, since he too was on edge –Toothless’s instincts had proven themselves to be correction on countless of occasions – the Night Fury wasn’t reassured. Hiccup just prayed to any of the gods and goddesses that were listening they would find Trader Johann soon. Then they could be on their way back to Berk. Hopefully, nothing would go wrong in the interim.

A tense silence took hold for a period. The fogbank rolling out, taking some of the clouds with them, allowing Máni’s light filter through the thinning clouds. With the little light provided by the moon, vivid green eyes could finally see more than just Toothless’s head in front of him. He could the moonlight’s reflection dancing off the numerous icebergs and sheets of ice, giving the night an eerie ambiance.

Hiccup really wished they were back in Berk.

“You found something?” the words spilled from the Vikings mouth the instant Toothless’s head shot up, knowing the Night Fury had no doubtably discovered something. If it was Trader Johann or something else, that was still a mystery. “Let's take a better look.”

Flying closer to the ocean, green eyes squinted in hopes of spotting something over than ice in the waters. A faint darken spot stood out since it stood tall in the water, surrounding by ice. Shifting his weight in the saddle and Toothless responded, turning in the direction Hiccup shifted into. As they drew closer the dark spot took the shape of a longboat in the faint moonlight. Flying a little bit further revealed the sails to be those of Trader Johann’s longboat.

“There he is!” relief welling up inside of him as something on the deck began to move before a man threw off the furs he had been buried under and started to frantically wave his hands about. Even from the distance between them, Hiccup could tell the boat’s lone occupant was close to being frozen.   His dark brown hair and beard had frost clinging to it while his fine blue and red silk tunic and cotton brown trousers did little to keep the trader warm.

“Master Hiccup!” Johann shouted out in relief, falling to his knees and clapping his hands together. “You're a welcome sight for these weary eyes.”

“I’m glad to find you in good health with this crazy weather,” Hiccup acknowledge as the trader moved out of the way for the Night Fury to land on deck.

“In all my years on the briny deep, I have never witnessed a freeze quite like this one. Ice as thick as Thor's hammer! I even considered abandoning my ship and traveling to Berk on foot just to delivery your father my important information,” Johann continued as if the teenager hadn’t spoken. “But each time I got out, the wind would pick up and I was sent fleeing for my life back to the safety of my boat.”

“Information? What information,” Hiccup rounded from where he had been inspecting one of the piles of commodities the trader had to offer. He had dismounted Toothless while the trader was talking allowing the dragon to stretch and shake out his limbs from the long flight.

“What I have is for the chief’s ears only,” Johann began and the Head of the Dragon Academy was slightly disappointed. However, he understood the necessities of keeping military intelligence secretive; Trader Johann on the other hand, didn’t. “But, since you are the chief’s son, sharing the information wouldn’t hurt. You see, Master Hiccup, I had just concluded my business at Outcast Island when I overheard Dagur saying he's getting ready to test-fire some sort of new weapon. Knowing that you were at odds with Dagur, I gallantly headed off to warn your father of his dastardly deed when this storm came out of nowhere. I was lucky to survive.”

Hiccup listened, his mind calculating and already planning on how to counter Dagur. There wasn’t any doubt in his mind that the deranged Viking had already test fired his new weapon. He probably had over a week to perfect any problems there had been with any weapon which meant it was only the storm keeping the Berserkers at bay. The last thought had the son of the chief freezing.

“Trader Johann, you said Dagur was getting ready to test-fire his new weapon and then the storm hit correct?” Hiccup asked, needing the clarification.

If he was right, then the storm had hit Outcast Island – and by extension – Trader Johann during the middle of Berk’s Eel Pox epidemic when they would have been their most vulnerable to attack. In fact, because of the storm, they had a chance to not only regain their health but also strengthen their defenses now there were more Hairy Hooligan Tribe members training to be future Dragon Riders.

“That is correct Master Hiccup, the storm came out of nowhere, freezing everything. I tried to turn around at first, but it was as if the gods themselves were against me. Snow was coming down in blankets, covering everything and the winds! The winds pushed me back and away from Outcast Island, which was-” the trader said, waving his hands everywhere.

“Buried in snow?” Hiccup cut him off yet he wasn’t looking at Johann, but up at the moon shining above him.

“Exactly. Form the distance I had sailed out, I bore witness to a rockslide which crushed the majority of the Outcast’s military base where their new weapon was stored. I am apprehensive to say the weapon they were building was destroyed, but that is most likely the case,” Johann confirmed, nodding his head vigorously.

The chief’s son was relieved to hear the weapon was destroyed – and why Johann couldn’t have told that to him before hand, the Dragon Rider didn’t know – but his thoughts were elsewhere. His mind was drawn inward even as the trader started to ramble on about the storm. Hiccup, on the other hand, was no longer paying him any attention.

This was the second time a snowstorm that had hit them out of season within the last few months. Both times, they were in danger of being attack by Dagur. More specifically, both times, Jackson was at risk of getting seriously hurt. The first being when he acted as bait to lure the deranged Viking out into the open and the thunderstorm had abruptly turned into a snowstorm, distracting Dagur and sparing the Druid. This time, Jackson was severely ill and without the storm giving them the time he needed to recover, Dagur would have very well attacked them when they were helpless.

Actually, Hiccup realized, this would be the third time. From what Finn had told him, he thought the Changewings who had attacked Jackson upon the Druid’s arrival in the archipelago had been displaced due to a snowstorm, which the hunter conjectured was reason the pride of dragons were on Berk in the first place and not on Changewing Island. The storm had most likely – in Gobber’s opinion – displaced Grump as well, forcing him to land on Berk and ultimately, save Jackson.

In each instance, there were only two factors: Jackson and snow. Moreover, the only being he could think of who could perform such a feat was none other than Jokul Frosti. It made sense though, with Jackson constantly spreading stories of Jokul Frosti to the children – although, the adults of Berk also had heard a tale or two of the mischievous winter spirit – winter’s manifestation might be inclined to protect his emissary.

“I’m beginning to think you’re not the only one interested in Jackson,” Hiccup said, still staring up at the moon as the clouds slowly started to cover Máni once more.

“-it was horrible,” Johann finished, not hearing the teenager’s comment.

“Well, you won't have to worry about that now, Johann,” Hiccup shook those thought from his mind and climbed onto Toothless’s back. “Just enjoy the ride.”

“Excellent,” the man said, climbing on behind him. Unfortunately, he managed to step on the Night Fury’s wing while mounting Toothless, earning him a growl of displeasure that he either ignore or completely missed with his own rambling. “We shall pass the time with stories of my grand adventures that are sure to warm your heart and stoke the fires of your imagination.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I found myself up against the man eating metal masons of Minori Majore? Oh, it was spring. The smell of fresh jasmine was in the air...,” Johann continued on and on and on. Not that either dragon or Dragon Rider paid him any attention. Hiccup had heard the story too many times to count and liked it as much as he liked it the first time he heard it, which was not at all. Toothless agreed with him as the dragon gave off a low whimper and took off abruptly from the deck of the longboat.

Johann gave a yelp and clung on tightly to Hiccup, causing the auburn haired teenager roll his eyes. The little jolt was nothing, Jackson would probably yawn at such a feeble attempt to scare him and ask when the real ride was about to start. Still, even as the trader yelled for them to slow down, the Night Fury rider shifted Toothless’s tailfin and the dragon happily accelerated.

* * *

Hiccup was starting to contemplate if his father would believe him if he showed up at Berk without Trader Johann and told the chief he couldn’t find the man’s longboat. Throughout the journey, he had considered dropping the man off on one of the numerous islands they had passed by on their ways back to Berk. Near the end, the Viking was all too willing to drop the trader off in the middle of the ocean. Johann just didn’t know what the meaning of silence was.

“But it was not a yak; it was his daughter!” the man finished, dissolving into a fit of laughter at his own story which wasn’t all that funny to begin with. “I could not believe it! She looked like a yak and her name was Yakmeen. And that, Master Hiccup, is how the King of Ennuden made me an honorary member of his royal court.”

“Oh, look, we're here!” Hiccup announced when the silhouette of Berk and its many sea stacks entered his tired vision. The sun behind the island illuminated the landmass and made it seem all that more of the salvation he desperately needed. “Thank Odin.”

Toothless shook his head and grumbled out his own gratitude at being back home. The Dragon Rider had caught the dragon more than once looking back at Johann and glaring at the man with a calculating look in his eyes. A look that did not bond well for the trader’s well-being but would have appeased the Night Fury and – if he was honest with himself – Hiccup.

Within a few more minutes, they were landing in the middle of Berk, the snow covering the buildings presenting a beautiful sight now the snowstorm had finally subsided. There was one thing missing from the picturesque village though: the villagers. Not a single Viking was in sight, not even footprints in the soft powdery snow to reveal where they could have gone.

“Hmm, not the welcome I'm accustomed to, but nonetheless,” Johann rambled out as he dismounted and stretched out. Hiccup followed after the slightly taller man and looked around the village, expecting someone to pop their head of their huts at any moment.

No one did.

“Where is everyone?” the Head of the Dragon Academy spoke outload more to himself than to the only other human within hearing range.

However, Johann took it as an invitation to start talking; again. “This reminds me of the time I landed on the Island of the Red –”

Hiccup cut him off by holding up his hand with his pointer figure raised when he thought he heard something. Yet, even without the trader’s constant rambling, the noise had disappeared.

“Hello?” the Dragon Rider called out as he began walking forward, deeper into the abandon village. “Anyone?”

Toothless began to sniff around and Hiccup followed him to where his father’s favorite mug rested on top of a barrel outside of their hut. It was turned over and the contents poured out as if the mug had been placed down in a rush while the chief had run out of the house. Pushing opening the unbolted door, the teenage Viking looked at the smoldering coals indicating no one had been there for some time.

Still, that didn’t stop Hiccup for calling out for his father in the deserted hut. “Dad?”

Taking a step forward, his boot made a splash and he looked down to find another discarded mug which once had been filled with water that was now surrounding the tankard on the floor. Toothless came up behind him and sniffed at the spill, whining softly and pushing the mug with his nose pathetically. Turning on his heels, he headed back outside

“What in the name of Thor is going on?” the auburn haired teen asked as he walked back through the village, finding Johann where he had left him. “Johann, anything?”

“The whole town Master Hiccup, it’s empty,” the trader said, looking nervously and speaking no more than he had to. The ghost village had obviously unsettled him if he was willing to shut up.

“I know. It's very weird,” Hiccup muttered, rubbing his chin as he thought about what could have caused this and coming up empty. Dagur and the Outcasts were obviously preoccupied by the damage done by the snowstorm on Outcast Island and there weren’t any signs of the Screaming Death.

“I don't like this one bit,” Trader Johann stated a matter-of-factly which the auburn haired Viking would have taken him seriously. If not for the fact he then started to ramble on about another one of his _adventures_. “There was one time I was on a trade run with a man who claimed to be a warlock and-”

The noise he had heard before had Hiccup snapping his head to the side as something zipped behind the hut they had just passed, a barrel clattering as it was overturned.

“Let's go, Toothless,” Hiccup commanded as he mounted the Night Fury. “Johann, stay here.”

The two took off chasing after whatever the creature was on foot instead of taking to the skies. Toothless following it more by the sound of the various objects the creature knocked over than actually seeing whatever they were following. They weaved through the huts and circled about before the sounds dissolved and Hiccup found themselves in the part of the village near the cliffs.

Dismounting, the Dragon Rider glanced around the village’s structures, catching the briefest glimpse of movement by Fishlegs’s hut. Against his better judgment, he found himself creeping closer to the front of the hut. Sharply he turned the corner only to stop in his tracks.

“Terrorthi?” Hiccup questions catching sight of the girl, who turned and looked at him with just as much surprise in her eyes han were in the Dragon Rider’s own green eyes.

“Hiccup?” the girl questioned before something collided with Hiccup from above, crushing him to the ground and knocking the breath out of him as the world faded into darkness.


	40. Frozen Fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers,
> 
> I have a love-hate relationship with this chapter. I love how the end turned out, I hated writing it. I had the whole thing finished last night and was doing the final review when I said fuck it and deleted over half of the content. I hope this much better quality chapter makes up for the delay. 
> 
> Regards,
> 
> SilverlySilence

When Hiccup came to, the first thing he saw was the blurred outline of a black dragon standing over him.

“Toothless?” he slurred out, unsure of his eyesight due to the splotches of light distorting his view. The blotches and dragon suddenly disappeared, replaced by Fishlegs’s face which was way too close for comfort. That alone had Hiccup scrabbling backwards to put some distance between him and the Gronckle rider and the slight screeching sound he made? Total acceptable given the circumstance. “Whoa!! Don't ever do that again!”

“Hiccup!” Fishlegs – completely missing Hiccup’s reaction – hauled the smaller Dragon Rider up into a bone crushing hug, gushing over him. “Oh, thank Thor! I'm so sorry I fell on you! But it wasn’t on purpose, I slipped off the roof when I heard you and-”

“Fishlegs, let go of him. We don’t need you killing the Head of our Academy, not when we have a dragon problem on our hands,” Terrorthi futilely tugged at the blond’s fur tunic to get him to release Hiccup. The tiny girl was unsuccessful with her physical attempts to free the chief’s son, but – thankfully – where her struggles failed, her words proved to be successful. Fishlegs all but dropped Hiccup in favor of tugging at the end of his blond hair as he began pacing back and forth, jabbering all the while. “Fast, really fast, too fast! Speedy. Oh, and there sting, paralyzing sting!”

Seeing as Fishlegs was preoccupied, Hiccup took the opportunity to suck in a lungful of crisp cold air and thanked Odin he had come out of the Gronckle rider’s hug undamaged. He also made a mental note to do something nice for Terrorthi. However, before he could make any further plans for the heroic little shieldmaiden, Toothless stole his attention with a nudge to the side.

Seeing acid green eyes gazing at him worriedly, Hiccup reached over and soothed the agitated Night Fury with a few pats on the head. “What is he talking about?”

Terrorthi didn’t get a chance to answer, for Fishlegs whirled around on the balls of his feet, shouting before the dark haired shieldmaiden could even open her mouth. “Speed Stingers!”

“Speed Stingers? Here?” brows furrowed together, only to rise into his hairline due to the nod of confirmation coming from Gothi’s niece.

“It all started just after nightfall,” Fishlegs began, his voice low and haunting while his eyes darted from side to side. “They don't fly but they're fast. Faster than any dragon I've ever seen, and they hide in the shadows. Scavengers, looking for anything they can find. One drop of their venom can paralyze a human or dragon in an instant. They move in a pack following a leader who directs them like a war chief. By the time Stoick ordered everybody to the cove the entire village had been overrun.”

“Well, where are the Speed Stingers now?” Hiccup asked, not sure if he should be alarmed for what this meant for Berk and her people or not. From the way Terrorthi was rolling her eyes, the blond Viking was overdoing the theatrics.

“What Fishlegs has failed to mention is that we’ve been able to round up most of the Speed Stingers with our dragons!” the shieldmaiden, having enough of being ignored, clambered up onto a barrel and jumped in before Fishlegs could speak over her again. Nonetheless, it was the way she had proudly slammed a small fist over her chest which had Hiccup’s lips twitching upwards despite his skepticism.

“Really?”

“Uh-huh,” Terrorthi vigorously nodded, plopping her butt down on the barrel as she settled in to tell her side of the events. “During the evacuation, Gustav was a yak’s hair away from being frozen by one of the Speed Stingers but Snotlout was all heroic like and protected Gustav but Snotlout got stung instead and neither Fanghook nor Hookfang were happy that their riders were being attacked and they flamed up and there was fire everywhere, but not enough to burn the huts because that would have been bad but still, there was enough flames to push the Speed Stingers back which was enough of a distraction for the Guard to evacuate the villager; only then, one of the Stingers went after Flystorm and Commander Huffnut was like, ‘no you don’t’ and used her shield to keep Flystorm from being paralyzed and then, Flystorm returned the favor by creating a barrier with his spine shot between Commander Huffnut when the Speed Stinger went after her instead and it was really neat!

“It was so cool because after Commander Huffnut and Flystorm being at each other’s throats all the time, fighting each other, they finally came together as a team worked in sync with each other but it was even better when they teamed up with Astrid and Stormfly to herd the Speed Stingers away from the village with their spine shots and Guffnut and Master Typhan pushed the wild dragons towards the Northern Mountains with their own dragons’ fire while Neðan and I created a few tunnels under a few of the Stingers that managed to break away, it was funny when they fell into the tunnels and I giggled, but they must have heard me because then we were being chanced through the tunnels, but don’t worry, we were okay because we came out of the ground right in front of the caves the others were herding the Speed Stingers into and Ruffnut and Tuffnut saved me with a cloud of gas which they exploded as soon as I was through, while sending the nasty Stingers chasing us flying through the air and into the cave and once they were through, Jackson pushed a biiigg rock off the mountaintop to block the cave so they couldn’t get back out but the rock wasn’t big enough so Mulch and Bucket are guarding the partially blocked entrance with Scauldy so if they tried to come out, they could send them back in with a few warning shots.

“It was amazing!” Terrorthi finally finished her story, vibrating with excitement. Hiccup was just relieved to see her taking a few big breaths of air since he’d been afraid she’d pass out due the noticeably lack of breathing she’d done as she’d expelled the story from her lips.

“So the Speed Stingers are caught?” Hiccup slow asked, hoping the answer wouldn’t push the girl over the edge. He was a little surprised when instead of going off again, the dark haired shieldmaiden bowed her head and sheepishly dug the tip of her boot in the wooden flooring.

“Not all of them,” she admitted dejectedly.

“There’s a few of them still in the village,” Jackson said, landing next to Terrorthi after having dropped down from above and it just went to show how used to the Druid Hiccup was that instead of jumping back with a screech – unlike Fishlegs – the Night Fury rider simply smiled, relieved to see Jackson looking to be in perfect health once again. “Finn, Piglegs, and Puffnut are using the Terrible Terrors assigned to them – along with Pain and Sharpshot – to do an aerial patrol, looking for the missing Speed Stingers while Terrorthi has had Neðan go underground to find them through the vibrations in the ground. So far, we’ve managed to round up three more of them.”

“Really? Did Neðan get that nasty one that tried to eat me?” the tiny shieldmaiden perked up, producing a delighted chuckle from Jackson which in turn had Hiccup flushing faintly.

“Sorry to disappoint, but Typhan detain that one with Firefang. They kept it cornered until some of the Dewdrop Faeries – I believe he said it was Nyx and Fury – could use some of their Nightshade to put the dragon to sleep. Torch and Snuffnut scarred a Speed Stingers they found into running straight for the mountains and into the cave with the others for protection.

"Gruffnut seemed very proud of his nephew for accomplishing such a feat but not so much as the pride he expressed when the twins got the another by blowing up Silent Sven’s yard and I definitely wasn’t involved with that. Nope, not I,” Jackson explained, the last part bringing a wicked smirk to his face. “We know there is at least one more evading capture and until it’s caught, the villagers are stuck in the cove.”

“The chief didn’t want to risk the villagers coming back to the village until we got all of the Speed Stinger rounded up,” Fishlegs butted, having gotten over his scare from the brunet’s abrupt appearance. “For now we’re fine. Speed Stingers are nocturnal, so when the sun goes down, then we’ll be in trouble.”

“Actually, that’s what I came to tell you,” Jackson said, idly twirling his staff. “The `Nuts have come up with a plan. Commander Huffnut thinks by capturing their leader, we came use him to lure the rest of the pack away from Berk.”

Fishlegs snorted, crossing his arms over his chest as he rolled his eyes. “And just how are we supposed to do that?”

A giant grin spread across the brunet’s face. “No idea. I’m just the messenger here to tell you we’re to meet up at Finn’s hut.”

“But what about Meatlug?” the patronizing tone in the blond Viking’s voice vanished, replaced by a petulant whine as blue eyes glancing around in fear of a Speed Stinger popping out of the shadows at any moment to attack.

“What about Meatlug?” vivid green eyes glancing between the trio feeling slightly left out.

“That is something you’ll have to see for yourself,” Terrorthi answered jumping off of the barrel and proceeded to skip out the door, where she pivoted on her foot and turned her head upwards.

Following the young girl, Hiccup found himself outside, starring up at the Ingermans’ rooftop where the missing Gronckle was located. It was obviously Meatlug had been paralyzed, what with her front forepaw raised, exposing rock-hard claws, while her mouth was frozen opened as if she was in mid roar before the Speed Stingers had hit her. It was a wonder she hadn’t toppled off the roof from her position at the edge of the rafters.

“Just look at her up there, so majestic,” Fishlegs whispered in revere while his gaze – heavy with grief – was fixed on the petrified dragon.

Vivid green eyes blinked a few times incredulously. “How did I miss that?”

“I have no idea,” Jackson shrugged as he strolled over to stand on the other side of Terrorthi before leaning up against his staff while his fingers played with the crystal.

“She tried to draw them away so I could escape. I just couldn't leave her,” the Gronckle rider continued on forlornly, causing the others to stare at him as the Lament of Meatlug went on and on.

“Is he okay? I’m not a dragon expert or anything, but even I know Meatlug’s not dead, but with the way Fishlegs’s is behaving, I kinda feel the need to get a pyre ready or something,” the brunet turned to Hiccup with a raised eyebrow.

“He’s fine,” Hiccup shook his head in fond exasperation. “He gets this way sometimes, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Good to know,” Jackson grinned, the two of them silently watching as Terrorthi went over to the blond Viking and awkwardly patted him on the side in comfort. She was rewarded for her good deed by being swept up into a crushing hug which had her feet flailing as she fought to reach the ground again.

Hearing footsteps behind them, Hiccup tore his gaze away from the brunet’s poorly concealed chuckles to see Trade Johann making his way towards the small group. “How did we miss that?”

Jackson all but leaped out of his skin at the unfamiliar voice, his shoulders tensing as he whirled around, staff held firmly in hand. Amber eyes, after taking in the new arrival’s appearance, darted away from Johann and back towards the Head of the Dragon Academy in askance. It took a moment for it to click the Druid was looking to him for guidance, but when it did, Hiccup felt his heart jump, racing faster than any Speed Stinger while simulations making him feel light as a feather.

“I don’t believe you’ve meet Trader Johann before now, have you Jackson?” Typhan asked, seemingly appearing with a gust of warm air but must have come from down the road.

“I don’t believe so, no,” the Druid answered, relaxing only marginally and Hiccup couldn’t really fault him. Not when the trader’s usually laid back posture stiffened as he glared daggers at the master craftsman.

“Master Craftsman Typhan,” Trader Johann greeted tersely.

“Trader Johann,” the dark haired man responded in kind. His voice soft and calm like always yet there was a bit of distain held within. He then dismissed the trader completely and turned towards Hiccup. “It is good to see you well, Hiccup. I’m glad your journey turned out to be a successful endeavor, no matter how much it would have please me if it weren’t so. Fortunately, I come baring fairer news; the last of the Speed Stingers has been detained and taken to the caves. Commander Huffnut has requested that we regroup there instead of Finn’s hut to further flush out our plans to liberate us from the nuisances.” Fathomless eyes glanced over Hiccup’s shoulder and at Johann. “Well, one of the nuisances that currently plagues Berk’s shores.”

“Why I never!” the trader huffed, but other than that, remained remarkable quiet. It was something the chief’s son would have to remember for future references.

“But what about Meatlug? I can’t just leave her here,” Fishlegs whimpered, trembling at the very thought of leaving the Gronckle behind.

“We’ve got that covered!” Snuffnut shouted from above, causing the group to crane their heads back to even catch a glimpse of Torch flying directly above them. “Come on Torch, let’s give Miss Meatlug a little helping claw.”

“He’s flying Torch?” Hiccup asked as he watched the boy carefully maneuvered the large Typhoomerang down. He wasn’t as successful as the original Dragon Riders were, Torch’s tail breaking one of the decorative dragon heads carved onto an adjacent hut, sending wood and snow crashing to the ground. The boy had the decency to look ashamed for the damage they caused but he wasn’t discouraged. And after a few false starts he finally managed to get Torch in position for him to pick up Meatlug with his hind legs.

“Of course, most of the Dragon Rider Trainees are riding their dragons. It was out of necessity they had to learn,” Jackson replied with a grin and Hiccup found himself smiling back as they bore witness to Fishlegs scrambling to get climb up the side of the hut, only to slide down some when he grabbed nothing but snow a few time before reaching the top and catching a ride with Torch. Once the heavyset Viking was settle on the Typhoomerang’s back, Snuffnut let out whoop as Torch took off while Fishlegs’s screams could be heard long after they were gone.

“Wait for me!” Terrorthi shouted, before letting out an ear-piercing whistle that had both Hiccup and Johann wincing. There was rumble as the ground shifted beneath there feet before Neðan burst through the foundation feet in front of a very unimpressed looking shieldmaiden wearing a stern look on her face. “I hope you filled in any tunnels you made. We don’t want a repeat of Astrid – or anyone for that matter. Although, icky Speed Stingers are okay, I guess – falling through one of your holes again, now do we?”

The Whispering Death grumbled but nodded his head in understanding, causing the girl to grin. “Good, glad we had this talk. Now come on, we don’t want Snuffnut to leave us behind, after all, you’re clearly the better dragon.”

Neðan preened at the complaint, waiting just long enough for Terrorthi to climb on his back before taking off after the Typhoomerang.

“We better head on back as well,” the Druid commented airily, already in the process of mounting Toothless who just happened to be at his side, munching on a few of Jackson’s dragon treats. “I’ll show you the way.”

“You just want to fly Toothless,” Hiccup shook his head but climbed on behind the brunet just the same.

“Me? No-o, I’d never,” Jackson denied as he tucked his staff down the back of his cloak diagonally. “Come on, Toothless, let’s have some fun!”

Hiccup had to hurry to grab on to the brunet as the Night Fury shot up into the air. Jackson letting out a delighted shout, mirroring the chirrup of please coming from the black dragon.

“Hey! What about me?” Trader Johann yelled, waving his hand as he tried in vain to chase down the Dragon Riders. He slowed to a stop when he realized the teenagers were too far away to hear him. Hands dropping to his side, shoulders slumped down in defeat, the man let out a long suffering sigh. “What am I going to do?”

“I would be willing to take you to the cove,” Typhan spoke up, serenely strolling pass the slumped over trader.

“Yeah, and how long will it take for us to get there?” Johann grumbled as he reluctantly followed the craftsman. He stopped dead in his tracks when he ran into something after turning a corner, freezing when what he bumped into moved. Slowly eyes traveled upward as the trader came face-to-maw with a very menacing Monstrous Nightmare that was growling at him for bumping into the dragon. “Mommy.”

“Are you coming or not? Firefang won’t wait forever,” Typhan asked from on top of the Monstrous Nightmare.

* * *

“Fishlegs, what's the deal with this paralysis? How long does it last?” Hiccup inquired as the trio of dragons flew towards the rendezvous point.

“I don't know, Hiccup. There's nothing about it in _The Book of Dragons_ or Bork's papers. They shouldn’t even be on Berk according to Bork’s papers. How do you think the Speed Stingers got here? They can't fly,” Fishlegs whimpered as Torch dropped down a good ten feet all of a suddenly and for no apparent reason. Snuffnut strove to correct the dragon, which only resulted in them wobbling back and forth as they flew.

The Head of the Dragon Training Academy thought about the layers of ice he had passed by as he flew out to rescue Trader Johann. “If I had to guess, I would say it was because the ocean is frozen solid, creating an ice bridge from their island to ours.”

“An ice bridge, huh? There’s an idea. We could lure them across the ice bridge and back to where they came from,” Jackson said as he shifted Toothless’s tailfin when Hiccup nudged him and their own flight became a little smoother. “Sorry Toothless.”

“And how are we going to catch this lead Speed Stinger?” Fishlegs asked, not looking so good as Torch weaved back and forth for no discernable goal other than to make the Gronckle rider turn green.

“Like he said, he has no idea. It’s Commander Huffnut’s idea,” Terrorthi replied from the other side of Torch.

“Right you are, Terrorthi,” Jackson out with laughter in his voice, banking Toothless to the right and heading for the base of the Northern Mountains. Hiccup leaned over, catching his first glimpse of the tiny looking group of people and dragons waiting outside of one of the mountain’s many caverns.

As they descended, Jackson didn’t hesitate to ask for a little assistance in landing which the Night Fury rider happily provided. The Druid did pretty well landing Toothless in Hiccup’s opinion. In contrast, Torch accidently dropping Meatlug about five feet above the ground and causing the Gronckle to growl in displeasure wasn’t so good.

“Look who we found,” Jackson called out as Astrid and Huffnut walked up towards the newly arrived dragons.

“Hiccup!” the blonde shieldmaiden smiled, throwing herself at the dismounted auburn haired teenager and hugging him tightly. If such as thing had happened a year prior, Hiccup would have been bright red while stuttering some nonsense at the contact. But it wasn’t a year ago. Instead, the Night Fury rider politely returned the hug before pushing the shieldmaiden away.

“How’s everyone doing?”

“Everyone’s fine. Well, except for…” Astrid trailed off, turning towards a group of boulders in a semicircle where Snotlout was propped up in an unnatural position for a human. Not too far in front of the brunet Viking, Gustav stood guard; his small arms crossed over an equally unimpressive chest. It was apparent the boy wasn’t letting anyone near the older Monstrous Nightmare rider without a fight, not that it would be a much of a fight if anyone pressed it. “Actually, when you think about it, it’s really not so bad.”

There was a grunt from Snotlout as the brunet Viking wriggled himself forward enough to tip over. However, before he could fall down completely, Gustav caught him and pushed him back upright. The young boy then turned and glared at Astrid for making such a comment which almost had his hero falling down.

“Movement! This is very good. It means the paralysis is only temporary,” Fishlegs enthusiastically from his place by Meatlug’s side, rubbing circles over her scales. “That means you’re going to be alright girl!”

“Hiccup,” Commander Huffnut greeted, bowing slightly to him, “glad you could make it. We’ve been able to contain the threat and are working on a plan to relocate the Speed Stingers.”

“Uh, that’s good, er… Commander. I hear you plan on capturing the leader and use it to lure them away from Berk,” Hiccup nodded his head, not used to the respect the older Viking was openly showing him.

“Yes, we’ve already completed stage one of the operation,” Huffnut informed, walking over to where Skully and Scauldy stood with their riders. Huffnut nodded to Mulch and the short Viking move to the side, allowing her access to a tall structured covered with a blanket. When the fabric was pulled to the side, Hiccup got his first glance at the dragons terrorizing his home.

Inside was a dark green dragon only slightly taller than Bucket who stood on the other side of the cage with sail-like appendages on its head and the back of its hind legs. His front legs were short and stubby while the tiny wings on the back of his body wouldn’t give the dragon flight capabilities but would act as a counter weight to help the creature balance as it ran at excess speeds. A red barbed stinger at the tip of the dragon’s tail was positioned to strike through the cage if given the chance.

“We’ve already caught the leader. It was easily identified as the only Speed Stinger with red markings. With some coaching, the Terrible Terrors were able to wrap ropes around the leader while he slept and through their combined efforts, carried him out of the cave,” the commander informed as Jackson inch closer to the cage to examine the new dragon. Thankfully, Bucket pulled him out of the way when the dragon lashed out with his stinger. “We are trying to figure how to relocate them but due to their inability to fly, we are having some difficulties. If we knew how they got to Berk in the first place, then we might be able to come up with a feasible strategy.”

“They came across the ocean, it was frozen over and they used the ice as a bridge,” Hiccup absentmindedly informed the commander, amazed the Dragon Rider Trainees had accomplish so much in the short amount of time he had been gone. “Jackson thinks we can lure them back to their island the same way they came, over the ice.”

“The idea has merit. We’ll have to wait until sundown for the other Speed Stingers to wake, but it could work,” Huffnut nodded, rubbing her chin with a thoughtful look on her face. “If you’ll excuse me Hiccup, I have some preparations to make. Gruffnut, I need your help securing a line to that cage,” giving him another bow, the Guard Commander departed to get her brother to lend a hand, forcefully if necessary.

“Terrorthi, Snuffnut, could you please see what’s keeping Ruffnut and Tuffnut? They were supposed to get some food while I got you guys,” Jackson asked the children who had been busy pulling at his cloak and whining about being hungry.

“We can do that,” Snuffnut scampered over to the Stoker-class dragon’s side and clambering onto Torch’s back. The large dragon turned his head and gave the struggling boy a pushed up. “Thanks Torch.”

“We’ll be back with food before you know it,” Terrorthi agreed, having an easier time climbing up on the Whispering Death’s back.

True to their word, they came back with arms laden with food and they even brought the missing twins while Barf and Belch carried a large cooking pot filled with water.

“When I told you to go get food, I meant already cooked,” Huffnut shook her head when she saw her younger siblings returning with the provisions.

“It will be cooked once Jackson’s through with it,” Ruffnut defended as Barf lowered his head for the blonde Viking to climb down.

“Yeah,” their brother agreed, barely keeping himself from face vaulting into the snow when his boot got stuck in his stirrup.

Rolling amber eyes, Jackson didn’t even bother to complain he was being forced to cook for them yet again and began making a stew. By the time he was done the paralysis had run its course through both Snotlout and Meatlug which had the broad-shouldered Viking complaining nonstop until the Druid shoved a warm bowl of stew into his chilled hands. When the sounds come from the cage began to echoed from the cave around the time the sun was setting, Huffnut ordered all of them onto the dragons and into the air.

The Commander had Flystorm hoist the cage up by the ropes Gruffnut had hooked up, yet she didn’t lift the cage more than a foot from the ground. Instead, she waited for the other Speed Stingers to slowly, cautiously exit the cave once the final rays of sunlight disappeared. Only then did Huffnut have the Deadly Nadder lift off, but by then it was too late.

One of the newly awaken Speed Stingers made an impossible leap and struck Flystorm, catching the dragon in the side and caused him to go down. The Deadly Nadder was forced to drop the lead Speed Stinger’s cage. Mulch – who was sitting in front of Bucket on Scauldy – pressed the Tidal-class dragon into action, diving forward to retrieve the ropes attached to the enclosure.

“Wait! Don’t!” Hiccup shout and surprisingly enough, the fishermen stopped before they got too close to the ground and thus in the Speed Stingers’ reach. Feeling all eyes on him, the chief’s son didn’t think about the older Vikings present, but barked out orders as he did every other time the Academy members had to deal with wild dragons. “Gruffnut, have Skully retrieve the cage. His bone armor should protect him from the Speed Stinger’s venom. Ruff, Tuff, cover Huffnut!”

“On it! We’re coming, Sis! Incoming!” Tuffnut screamed, as Barf let out a stream of gas and flew around the down dragon and his older sister.

“Here we go!” Ruffnut agreed as Belch created a spark and ignited the gas, creating a ring of fire around them.

The Speed Stingers that were closing in on Huffnut and Flystorm were forced back by the flames. However, a few of the dragons appeared to be backing up, not in fright, but in preparation of making a running start at the flames in order to leap over them. A cry from their leader inside the cage Skully and Gruffnut were currently flying away had them changing directions and running around the circle of fire, following after their leader.

“Yeah! Go Gruffnut,” Tuffnut cheered his brother on triumphantly.

“Great plan,” Jackson said from behind the Night Fury rider as they flew after the Boneknapper, making sure to fly high enough the Speed Stingers’ tails couldn’t reach. They already had a close call with one hitting Hiccup’s metal foot and the Druid knocked another one away before Toothless had gain altitude. “There, the ice bridge.”

“Oh no,” the Head of the Academy groaned, watching the frayed ropes snap, sending the cage crashing down on the thick layer of ice. The cage door broke opened and within seconds, the lead Speed Stinger was free. Hissing to his followers, the underlings surrounded their leader and turned on the members of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe. As one, they hissed threateningly, tails rising with their stingers positioned to strike.

“Hookfang!” Snotlout shouted as he came in from the left.

“Fanghook!” Gustav followed his idol’s example, flying just off Hookfang’s wing.

“Firefang,” Typhan spoke coming from the opposite direction.

“Fire,” the three Monstrous Nightmare riders spoke together as the dragons blasted the ice a few feet in front of the hostile dragons. The flames successfully melted the connecting sheets of ice, separating the pack of Speed Stingers from Berk.

The Head of the Academy turned towards the trio of Monstrous Nightmares, impressed with the hastily thought-out and executed plan. “Nice shooting.”

“Ha! No problem, Hiccup,” Snotlout boosted, puffing out his chest while Hookfang did a victorious loop, roaring.

“Yeah, no problem, Hiccup,” Gustav attempted to copied the brunet Viking but Fanghook almost lost the boy at the peak of the loop and had to abandon the maneuver to keep the brunet from falling.

“The praise should all go to Firefang,” Typhan patted said Monstrous Nightmare on his head which earned him a grumble of pleasure.

Pride welled up inside Hiccup at seeing the Dragon Riders and the Trainees. “Let’s go home.”

The ride back was spent in animated conversation between the children and Jackson which drew all of the Dragon Riders in at one point. It was pleasant and the short ride seemed even shorted as they arrived back on Berk to find the villagers trekking through the snow and towards their huts, ready to sleep in their own beds.

“Dad!” Hiccup called out, dismounting Toothless to run over to join his father and Thornado. “You’re okay.”

“Nasty creatures, those Speed Stingers, but it takes more than them to keep me down,” Stoick grinned fiercely. “So how did everything turn out?”

“Very well actually,” the auburn haired teenager said, looking over to the Dragon Rider Trainees clamoring together as they recounted their first successful mission with each other. “They’ve all grown a lot in the little time they’ve had.”

“Just like their predecessors,” the chief stated, looking down at his son with the pride of a father.

“Hiccup,” Jackson came running up behind him, causing the two Haddocks to turn to look at the burnet. “The Speed Stingers are gone, your first class of Dragon Rider Trainees have had a baptism by fire, and it’s the first snow of the season! It’s time to celebrate!”

“And how are we celebrating? It’s too late to organize any sort of feast and we’re all too tired to do much of anything else,” the Night Fury rider pointed out, missing the mischievous gleam in amber eyes.

“Like this,” the Druid said, pulling his free arm from behind his back and shoving the snowball into Hiccup’s face. His silvery laughter echoed throughout the town as he ran away. “Snowball fight!”

Hiccup stood there for a moment stunned, watching as Snuffnut, Tuffnut, and Ruffnut all immediately joined in and armed themselves with balls of snow. The trio of Thorstons first targets to be bombarded with the snow just happened to be the other three members of their family: Puffnut, Huffnut, and Gruffnut. Their little family feud spread like a wildfire until all of the Dragon Riders and the Trainees were declaring war on one another.

Feeling a pushed from behind him, the Night Fury rider glanced up at his father who raised one bushy eyebrow before gesturing his head over to the group enjoying themselves in the white powder.

“Go on, have fun,” Stoick encouraged his son who didn’t waste any time in scooping up a handful of snow and joining the fray. His snowball hit brown hair with deadly accuracy.

“Hey!” Jackson turned around and glared at the chief’s son, before grinning and tackling the laughing auburn haired Viking into a snowbank. There was a moment of silence before both of them burst out in laughter which ended abruptly when they were both pelted by snowballs. Amber eyes sweeping the area, landing on the culprits –Tuffnut and Snuffnut – before looking back at Hiccup with a grin on his face. “Join me in getting payback?”

Hiccup hesitated before nodding his head, his own grin forming on his face. “You bet.”

* * *

“I don’t get you,” Hiccup sighed, ushering the shivering Druid through the door and into the Haddocks’ hut, Toothless trailing not far behind. Once they were all inside, the auburn haired Viking quickly closed the door to the heavy falling snow outside.

“What’s not to get?” Jackson asked quickly making his way over to the kindling fire, propping his staff up against the wall as he went. “I tend to speak my mind and do as I please.”

The Dragon Rider cringed, remembering some of Jackson’s confrontations with Dagur and knew how true the offhanded comment was. The brunet tended to speak without regards to the consequences of his words which had gotten on the nerves of some of the teenaged Vikings not associated with the Dragon Riders. Jackson could usually get himself out of the situations he got himself into, but there had been a few times that one or more of the members of the Dragon Training Academy had to step in.

“I don’t get why you love winter so much. You spend hours having fun in the snow, yet you hate the cold. It doesn’t make sense that your favorite season is winter,” Hiccup said as he gathered a few logs from the pile before throwing them onto the hearth. Toothless waited for him to step away before letting out a low level plasma blast which had the logs bursting into flames. “Thanks Bud.”

Jackson chuckled as he pulled off his equally snow laden and drenched cloak and began to shake out some of the snow and water. “How can you not like winter? It’s the best!”

“There’s snow for one,” the Dragon Rider pointed out, also taking off his fur vest and shaking the white fluffy flakes which clung to the article of clothing. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the brunet hanging his cloak up by the fire to dry out.

“All the better for snowballs fights and making snow angels,” the Druid replied, sitting as close to the fire as possible without getting burnt and worked to pull off his waterlogged boots.

“The days are shorter and the nights are longer,” Hiccup continued, hanging his fur vest next to the blue and white cloak dripping on the floor and bent down to remove his sole boot.

“Meaning less work to be done and more time for fun,” Jackson retorted as he leaned closer to the fire. The brunet tensed when he felt something brush up against his back and turned his head to find Toothless had laid down behind him. The dragon gave one of his toothless smiles and made a gurgle like purring noise which had the Druid relaxing and returned the smile. He then proceeded to scoot backwards and leaned up against the Night Fury to steal body heat from the dragon in hopes of quell his shivers.

“The cold,” the Viking finally added knowing for a fact Jackson was highly susceptible to the cold, the quivering a clear indicator. Sitting down next to the Druid, he too leaned back against his dragon and began to pet Toothless’s head in between his ear-plates. “You are always complaining you’re cold.”

“I’m not use to being cold,” Jackson grumbled through a loud yawn, pulling his feet underneath him. The new position had his shoulder brushing up against Hiccup’s, not that the brunet noticed. The auburn haired teenager, on the other hand, was all too aware of the contact and was currently looking up at the ceiling in hopes of hiding the color seeping into his cheeks.

“Yeah, well, in Berk it snows nine months out of the year, and hails the other three, so it’s pretty much always cold,” Hiccup did his best to speak normally, watching the firelight flickering across the ceiling as he waited for the brunet to lob back another counter. None ever came. Instead the light pressure on his shoulder increased and little puffs of air tickled his skin suddenly all to warm skin. Turning his head, all the Viking could see was a thick mess of brown hair and closed eyelids. “Huh.”

The chief’s son had no idea what to do, nothing like this had ever happened to him before. He wasn’t sure if he should move or leave the Druid as he was. However, he did notice that Jackson’s shivering had finally subsided.

“I guess you’re right,” Hiccup concluded with a sigh of defeat, leaning his head against the brunet’s. “Winter is the best season. It gives me the excuse to be close to you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff is not my strong suit. Please tell me how it turned out in your opinion.


	41. On the Verge of Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, apparently, I do okay at writing fluff due to the reactions I received. Good to know which makes me sad to say there isn't any in this chapter because as Genesisfreak pointed out, there is only 10 chapters (including this one) left to wrap everything up in a neat bow. This chapter is one of the wrapping up chapters. Still, I hope you like the twist.

“Remember to listen to your Uncle Gruffnut and Aunt Huffnut. If neither of them are around, listen to Master Typhan,” Puffnut drilled her son who was currently too busy bouncing up and down on the dock’s weatherworn boards, watching the hustle and bustle going on around him to pay any attention. “Snuffnut, are you listening to me?”

“He’ll be fine. We’ll look after him,” Mulch attempted to appease the worried mother as he carried a large basket onto the longboat.

“And I’ve got Torch too!” Snuffnut pointed out, looking over to the side where said Typhoomerang was harassing Scauldy and Skully as the older dragons assisted various Vikings loading the boat up with supplies and other items they would need for their journey.

“That you do,” his mother acknowledged, ruffling the boy’s blond hair. “You’ll make a fine Dragon Rider one day.”

“Just like Aunt Ruffnut and Uncle Tuffnut?” Snuffnut asked tugging at the frayed edges of his tunic, a bashful smile on his face.

Kissing the top of her son’s head, Puffnut mumbled into the boy’s brow. “Even better.”

“Mo~om,” Gustav whine covered up whatever the blonde child’s murmured reply. The other Dragon Rider Trainee was also bidding farewell to his family members, only the brunet was being smothered by Mrs. Larson with her free arm while cradling his baby sister, Hildegard, with the other.

“I just want to make sure you change your undergarments every day! I’m not going to be there to remind you,” the woman chided a heavily blushing Gustav, pulling a pair of woolen undergarments from his satchel and waving them around in the air. The boy attempted to snatch them away, but he wasn’t quick or tall enough to accomplish the task. Thankfully, Fanghook was able to reach the garment of clothing. Unfortunately, Fanghook also set them aflame, incinerating them within seconds.

“Alright Neðan, remember what Mom and Aunt Gothi told us. If it comes after us with the intent to kill, kill it first,” Terrorthi said as the tiny girl headed onto the boat with the Whispering Death following loyally after. The two turned just before the gangplank to wave goodbye to her parents one last time before probed forward by the end of a staff.

“I am a little concern with you Vikings’ philosophies,” Jack said standing to the side of the gangplank, tapping Terrorthi once more to get her to move along and prevent her from blocking the path of the other Vikings.

Across from the Druid stood Toothless next to his rider and Jack couldn’t help but mental soften as he watched Hiccup lend a helping hand to the little girl to steady her as she walked up the plank. The Night Fury, for his part, kept from growling at the Whispering Death following her, which was a big step for him. In its entirety, it was rather sweet on both their parts, not to mention heartwarming that they’d come to see the Dragon Rider Trainees off in the first place.

“And what, if you Druids were being attacked, you would just stand there and let yourselves be killed?” Hiccup asked, taking Snuffnut’s bag as he climbed aboard the boat before handing it back.

“Actually, yes. Most Druids are pacifist and would rather be killed then kill. There is a select sect called the Catha, an order of Priests in the Old Religion exceptionally skilled at using magic who are the only Druids that are allowed to torture and kill in order to protect the rest of our people. They were trained since birth to resist all forms of physical pain and some can separate their mind from their body,” Jack shook his head as he resurfaced from the newly awaken memories of his mother’s tutoring him about the Priests who protected their people. Not that they were around when he needed them in Hawthorne.

He had feverously wished one of the Catha to come and save them from the man who was unfortunately his father. However, it was only later in life his mother informed him the last Catha died out in the time of King Arthur. Most Druid Clans had died off during the Great Purge whilst others had never been able to recover from the loss of their clansmen and over time, more clans died off. Jack had never even met another Druid during his first life as Jackson Overland and had never met one in his whole time as Jack Frost either. For all he knew, he was the last Druid.

Amber eyes glanced up – trying to find something to distract him from his depressing train of thoughts – to find Hiccup staring at him in disbelief while Toothless’s ear-plates were slumped against his head. “What?”

“You would stand there and let yourself be killed?” the Viking asked, his voice sounding weak and unwell. Though it was Night Fury’s sickly grumble which drew the Jack’s attention; he was only pacified Toothless was fine when Hiccup glanced at the dragon before those vivid green eyes darted back to him. If the Dragon Rider wasn’t concerned with Toothless’s behavior, then there was no need for the burnet worry either.

Appeased Toothless was okay, Jack was forced to think about how to best answer the posed question, because while he was a Druid, he was also a Guardian. “No, I think I would. But I wouldn’t kill one of Midgard’s denizens either. I’m a Guardian; I will protect those who need it. The extent of killing I do is hunting and I don’t let their loss of life go to waste.”

“That’s a relief,” Hiccup let out a huge sigh as Toothless slumped down onto the docks, covering his eyes with his paws.

“You’re both so weird,” the ex-spirit rolled amber eyes, not understanding why the Night Fury and his rider’s had been worried.

“Look who’s talking,” Hiccup shot back. He seemed startled by his own words a moment after they left his mouth but that didn’t stop either of them from breaking out in matching grins. “You know you don’t have to go with them right? Commander Huffnut doesn’t think the rumors of the Berserkers’ secret weapon are true. Dagur could have intentionally leaked the information to Trader Johann as a trap meant for us but he didn’t count on the storm keeping Johann from delivering the message and preventing us from acting on the intel. Dad says Dagur's as crafty as he is crazy.”

“I believe it too,” Jack answer, tilting his head to the side slightly as the winds whispered the truth of the situation. He would have to remember to do something nice for the winds in thanks for raising the storm to keep the Berserkers at bay. “That’s not why I’m going with them though.”

“Then why are you going?”

“I’m going with them because while Commander Huffnut and the others search to confirm or disprove the existence of this nonexistence weapon, Mulch and Bucket are to drop the children and Typhan off at some of the neighboring villages to conduct trades. No offense to Typhan, but I don’t think he can handle all the children and the dragons alone, so I’m going along to keep them safe.”

“And who’s going to keep you safe?”

Jack bit the inside of his check to kept from snorting. “There is Sharpshot, who has attached himself to my being for _some inexplicable reason_ , not to mention Snotlout shoved Pain at me this morning, and the children do have their dragons coming with us as well. I pretty sure I have enough dragon protectors to keep me safe. That, and may I remind you, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. There’s no need to worry.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” the Viking rubbed the back of his head glancing up at the green and purple Terrible Terrors perched up on the mast.

“I’m sure,” Jack gave the auburn haired teenager a nod before crossing the gangplank himself. Pain let out a high pitch screech, alerting those ashore the longboat was about to cast off soon. A few of the Vikings still onboard hurried off while the Druid leaned up against the side and looked over at Hiccup waiting on the docks. “We’ll be back before you know it and bring you some awesome souvenirs, right kiddies?”

“Right!” three voices echoed simultaneously from various places around the deck.

“Wait,” Gustav said, pulling himself up from the basket he had been half way leaning inside and looking around at the other Dragon Rider Trainees. “What did we just agree to?”

“Getting presents for everyone,” Snuffnut said, slapping the taller boy on the back of his head.

“Everyone a board going abroad?” Mulch called out as Bucket started to pull in the plank bridging across the dock and the longboat. “Any dragons too big to sit on deck and can’t swim, you’d be flying behind us. That means you Skully, Torch.”

“I shall be flying with Firefang as well,” Typhan said as he mounted the Monstrous Nightmare and took off from the deck, the boat visibly rising up out of the water at the loss of weight.

“Alright, then, we’re casting off! Scauldy, take us out,” the fishermen commanded as the Scauldron dove into the waters and grabbed the waiting ropes dangling over the side of the boat.

“Bye!” Jack called out as the longboat pulled out, waving to Hiccup and Toothless. The three children quickly ran to the side as they started pulling away, waving along with the brunet, shouting their own farewells to their family members and the Night Fury duo.

“Bye,” Hiccup yelled back, waving as well. Toothless shot a burst of plasma up into the air, creating a small fireworks display which had the children shouting in awe.

* * *

Jack shuffled and rolled over on to his back in the makeshift bed in the longboat’s cabin. Amber eyes stared up through the porthole and into the night since sleep seemed to be evading him. The children were fast asleep as were the majority of the adults but there were none of Sandy’s sweet dreams reaching him.

Outside the porthole, there were a few wisps of clouds in the night sky which allowed the ex-spirit a clear view of Manny’s rays. Staring at the glowing moon, Jack wondered what the other Guardians were currently doing in this time period. Were they even Guardians yet? Or were they deep in the frays of battle with Pitch, creating the moniker the ‘Big Four’?

Rolling onto his other side, Jack stared down at his hands. For over three hundred years, they were pale with no blemishes no matter what he did. Soft and smooth with the faint traces of blood veins underneath the skin tainted blue in color rather than the healthy red. However, now, the veins carried red blood throughout his whole body giving his skin a pink pigment which was obscured by his tan. There were calluses on both hands, many more on his right, from constantly holding his staff and a few scabs on his finger tips from working on the leathers in the forge.

He had been in Berk, in this time for nearly nine months by his calculations and things were different. He had been a Guardian for four years before this time travel mishap and he had felt like an outsider than a part of the Guardians of Childhood. Other mystical and magical entities had still been referring to them as the ‘Big Four’ forgetting about Jack Frost. He knew that wasn’t the Guardians fault, but that was just one of the many things which bothered him.

Their last flight showed it, they had been working together in perfect sync. By ‘they’, he meant the ‘Big Four’ while he – Jack Frost – had been a hindrance in their teamwork. They were not used to fighting alongside him and he was too used to fighting alone. Jack had tried to change to fit in, but he never managed to work his way into their tightknit group.

He rarely, if ever, saw any of the other Guardians outside of their meetings and when he did, it was because he had gone to them. Not the other way around. They had never gone looking for him. Jack had tried to force himself into their group, looking for a place to belong after three hundred years of solitude. He didn’t want to admit it – even to himself – but with all the time he had to himself at the moment, he had more time to think and the brunet didn’t like what he found. The truth was he didn’t fit in with the other Guardians.

The Seven Brightest Lights knew him better than his fellow Guardians. With them, he felt like he was back in his home settlement in Burgess when it was called Hawthorne by the few families who lived there with no one else for miles around. When Jackson Overland looked after and entertained the younger children telling them new stories and assisting them with their problems and chores. During the period when Gabe had taken the time to show a starving boy how to properly gut and skin a fresh kill so his family could eat.

Yet, here on Berk, he had spent every free minute trying to get home. Well, that was until about a month ago when he had contracted Eel Pox and after he had recovered, he hadn’t restarted his search for a way back to the future. Jack hadn’t even realized he had stopped looking until recently. It had been a revelation even to himself.

The brunet had been ailing and hurt before in the future, but he had always had to deal with it alone. Here there were a multitude of willing Vikings who would and did take care of him while he was incapacitated. Between Gobber and Finn, they made sure he ate something in the morning while the Dragon Riders made sure he ate at least another whole meal during the day. That had more to deal with the fact they were constantly forcing him to cook than actually looking out for his health. Thought they made up for it by trying to force a third meal on him ‘to get some meat on his bones,’ but they rarely pulled it off.

The twins routinely joined him in telling stories to the children and let him join them in causing a little mischief. He did help curb their more destructive behavior, much to all the Dragon Riders delight, right up until the point one of them was caught in the trio’s pranks. Astrid, on the other hand, was the perfect training partner to keep his parkour skills up to par and helped to improve his moves, or create some new ones. Almost every morning after the Deadly Nadder and her rider finished their morning flight, the two would race through the forest on foot, forcing each other to do better while Stormfly flew overhead.

When he needed to transverse the forest to gather useful items or to check his snares, Snotlout was always willing to assist him. The burly Viking listened to him when he pointed out the magical aspects of Berk the Vikings took for granted which were newly recalled lessons his mother used to teach him. Then there was Fishlegs who Jack routinely helped to improve his footwork to better his swordsmanship skills and in turn, the Gronckle rider taught him more about the different dragons and their behaviors.

Lastly, there was Hiccup. The chief’s son had been there for him since the beginning, making him feel welcomed in the new land. They had a rocky beginning, but that hadn’t stopped Hiccup from getting to know him. In fact, Jack thought their rocky beginning was why the auburn haired teenager had tried so hard to get to know him.

What it all boiled down to was Jack never tried to fit in on Berk. He tried his hardest to get back to the future, but he had ended up doing on Berk – seamlessly with no real knowledge – what he had never been able to accomplish in the future. He had become a part of a team. There were people who had his back in and out of battle. They were his friends. Something he hadn’t had since he was Jackson Overland and made friends with Gabe.

Sighing, the Druid gave up trying to reach Morpheus’s domain and slipped out of the makeshift sleeping quarters. Once on deck, he looked around to find Skully and Torch huddled together sleeping with the two Terrible Terrors curled up on either dragons’ heads. Scauldy was sleep-swimming behind the boat with a rope loosely tied around her neck to keep her from swimming away from the longboat.

He wasn’t the only one up either. Bucket was puttering around the deck silently, making sure they stayed on course. The Commander of Berk Guard was flying out in front on Flystorm, though amber eyes thought he saw the woman slumped over on the dragon’s back most likely dozing off. Behind the longboat, Typhan took up the rear on Firefang, the Titan Constellation leaning back to look up at the skies he once had been a part of.

“How are things up here?” Jack asked, coming to stand beside the tall blond Viking.

Bucket looked down at him out of the corner of his eye and nodded his head. “Good, though shouldn’t you be asleep Jackson?”

“Shouldn’t you be doing your duties as Winter King, Mr. Vadderung?” the ex-spirit shot back, taking great pleasure in the fact the tall Viking actually turned his head and looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. He had made the composed Vadderung show emotions, score one for Jackson Overland.

His grin just widened when the two blue eyes looked up at Typhan flying near them. It would seem the older man was worried about being overheard by former Constellation which confirmed Jack’s suspicions that it wasn’t only Creatures of Magic who could sense other entities not of this plant.

“You don’t have to worry about him,” the Druid said, idly twirling his staff between his fingers. “Typhan is a Constellation.”

“He arrived with the Shadow Creatures,” the Viking pointed out and it took the brunet a moment to piece together that the man meant the Dream Pirate.

“Yeah, well, one tends to arrive with the Dream Pirates when one is their prisoner,” Jack supplied. When the blond man continued to eye Typhan warily, the brunet shook his head at the poorly hidden suspicion being displayed. “Trust me, Typhan is an ally. Firefang wouldn’t have let him ride on his back if that wasn’t the case. So, if you don’t trust me, trust the dragons.”

Blues eyes looked back down at Jack and for one brief second, Bucket’s visage was replaced by that of Vadderung’s thunder colored hair and one striking blue eye. “I trust you Jackson. If you say he’s an ally, then I believe you.”

“Good, then maybe the two of you can get together and have your own little gathering. You could call it ‘Gods Who Masquerade as Midgardians with None Being the Wiser.’ I think it has a ring to it, what about you?” the brunet jokingly offered, however his heart wasn’t really in it as amber eyes gazed out at the darken ocean.

“Only if you were to join,” Vadderung glanced over at him with his one good eye and the former Guardian pretended not to notice as the man’s visage flickered.

“Tsk, tsk,” Jack clicked his tongue, “I am fully Midgardian and not a god, so I couldn’t join your little club.”

Two blue eyes rolled at him – which Jack put as another tally for him – and majestically sat down on one of the closed barrels of water. “What gave me away?”

“Well, originally, I thought Puffnut might be you. You know,” Jack said motioning to his eyes, “the whole one eye thing and all. But, even if you did take on the appearance of a woman, you wouldn’t have had a child. So Snuffnut ruled that possible out. That and it’s quiet clear who they are descends from. Thorston. Thor. Not that hard to miss. Though, technically speaking, they’d still be related to you.”

“Very true, I shall have to tell my son of this the next time I see him,” the man said, nodding along. “If having two eyes throw you off my track, what was it which led you to believe ‘Bucket’ was me?”

“I admit the eyes were a bit of a brainteaser and your façade? Flawless, nothing like _you_ , but you made one mistake,” the brunet began pacing back and forth in front of the blond. He was having great fun in explaining his methodology – which had the added benefit of pushing away some of his downheartedness from earlier – and felt a bit like the character Sherlock Holmes must have felt. “It was actually Gobber who helped clue me on to your identity.

“The symbol on Toothless’s tailfin, I know I’ve seen it before. The rounded skull with horns and a set of three teeth on the top and a disjointed jaw with three teeth as well; it was distinctive and yet simple at the same time. I knew I had seen it before, but where? So I asked Gobber about it, and he told me you were the one to design the insignia for the tailfin.

“Insignia; that word struck a chord in my memory of a time where you showed me the very symbol. You told me it was the Insignia of Váli, the son birthed by the human princess Rindr for the sole purpose of killing Höðr as revenge for Höðr's accidental murder of his half-brother, Baldr. He grew to adulthood in one day and accomplished the task he was born to do but you never mentioned anything more of him – his descendants yes, him no – despite him being one of your sons,” Jack concluded, rounding on the Viking and pointing his staff at the man accusingly.

Vadderung sighed heavily – three signs of emotions, Jack was really on a roll today – and shook his head. “I left him with his mother, to grieve with my wife for the loss of Baldr. Years later, I realized how foolish my actions were, but it was too late, Váli had already passed on from this world to a place even I could not go. Yet, he left behind a family, a son who left behind his own family and so on and so on until I was able to track down his defendant’s the little island called Berk. I vowed then to keep watch over his descendants as penance for my foolishness. I should have never bore a son for the sole purpose of revenge; I condemned my own blood to a life of bloodshed because of my grief.”

Jack bit the bottom of his lip and lowered his head in mourning for Váli. After a quiet prayer for the departed, the brunet looked over at the hunched over form of the blond Viking. It looked like he wasn’t the only one with disheartening thoughts this evening. Since Vadderung had helped pull him out of his depression, it was his turn to do the same.

“So Hiccup is your grandson, removed a few generations or so,” the ex-spirit ventured a guess, which was rewarded with a nod. “On his father’s side or mother’s side? Because if it’s on his mother’s side, that would mean Snotlout is your grandson too. Although, I can understand why you would never discretely give him Váli’s insignia as well, he’s too much of a Jorgenson to wear any other symbol.”

“You would be correct,” Vadderung acknowledged with a nod, a slow smile making its way across the man’s face. “Snotlout too is my grandson but – as you put it – he is too much of a Jorgenson to be considered a true descendant of Váli.”

“Huh, that I can see,” the brunet grinned, pleased he had gotten the man to smile. “So, is it you or the winds I have to thank for those two instances of snow? I would have asked Typhan, but he didn’t know about me until recently which eliminates him as a suspect.”

“That would be all the doing of the winds. They wanted to help you and wouldn’t change their minds once made up,” Vadderung answered as a giant gust caught the sails and had the longboat surging forward.

“Isn’t that the case? For something so flexible, once they make up their minds, there is nothing to stop the winds from completing their task. No one can control the winds, no one,” Jack agreed, chuckling when the winds whipped around him and ruffled his clothing and hair.

“That is very true,” the Viking nodded his head with a knowing smile on his face.

The ex-spirit’s whole disposition changed in that instance. His laughter trailed off even when the winds continued to circle around him. Amber eyes dropped down as Jack turned around and lean up against the railing. His free hand reached back and pulled his hood over his head as he hunched over the side of the boat.

“I’m not going back, am I?”

The deck creaked behind him as a hand was gently placed on his shoulder. “No, you’re not.”

“Magic already told you why I was sent to the past?”

“The night you first spoke to me.”

Jack waited, but when the man didn’t provide anything further, he looked over at him with pleading eyes. “Why am I here?”

The man kneeled down so he was eye level with him, his visage once again flickering before settling on that of Vadderung. “Magic sent you to live; to give you the chance at life you were denied in the future. Magic wants you to be happy.”

And wasn’t that the crux of the matter? The future was where he had come from, where he was a Guardian and where he should belong. However, it was the past where he found acceptance, where he wasn’t a burden or a forgotten spirit left on his own for three hundred years. It was the past where he remembered his family – his beloved mother, Kári, and his treasured little sister, Annis – and his heritage, where he could once again practice the Druid customs he had long forgotten. It was where he felt like he belonged.

It was where magic had sent him to find happiness.

The problem was, Jack was starting to believe magic was correct in its assumptions.


	42. Boom! Smoke Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was asked how I know I have only 50 Chapters, and the reason is because I've already written the outline of the whole story and have pretty much everything flushed out now that we're so close to the end. However, it takes me about a week to reread the current chapter, looking for any mistakes or just generally changing things I don't like after looking back. So yeah, sorry to say, there will only be 50 Chapters in this fic.
> 
> Toffyy: My Jack is your favorite from all fics? That makes me so happy and very proud of this story. Please continue to stick with me till the end. Thank you!
> 
> For many of you who've read my author notes, they know I have a little cash flow problem. So, even though I would really like to donate to AO3 for their current fund raiser, I can't. Instead, I'm hoping some of you do instead and present this chapter to you as an offering. Please donate! We all want to be able to continue reading all the awesome stories on this site.

“We’re back!” Snuffnut bounced up and down as the first real sight of Berk shown through the fogbank. The young boy would have fallen overboard if not for Gustav grabbing on to the back of his tunic. In turn, Terrorthi had to grab onto the Fanghook’s rider’s vest or else he too would have been pulled overboard with the blond. Overall, the only reason all of them hadn’t gone over was due to Jack hooking his staff on the back of the Whispering Death rider’s collar and yanking the trio back. The children tumbled backwards into a pile at the Druid’s feet.

“Nice save,” Mulch patted the burnet on the arm as he walked pass to help Bucket prepare to dock. “Bucket, get Scauldy to bring the boat around to the other side of the dock.”

“Will do Mulch,” the blond Viking said as he leaned over the side railing and patted the Tidal-class dragon on the head. Upon seeing amber eyes looking at him, the man gave him an inconspicuous wink before presenting Scauldy with a few of Jack’s algae dragon treats. The dragon happily gobbled them down and then took the thick rope tied to the haul of the longboat presented to her. “Take us in easy now, girl.”

Scauldy let out a little whine around the rope in her mouth and nodded. As she pulled them to the docks, Typhan and Gruffnut took it upon themselves to take the sails down, starting from the top and working their way down with the assistance of Firefang and Skully. It might have been a little easier going with Huffnut’s help, but she had already flown ahead on Flystorm a few leagues back to deliver her report to Stoick. Still, they managed to make due between the two of them with a little help from the Titan Constellation’s solar winds.

As for Jack, he had the most difficult task of them all. He was in charge of keeping the children in line and had them helping by making a game of it. Their dragons assisted as much as the giant creatures could, but Torch and Fanghook ended up getting into a brawl and had to fly behind the longboat as penance. Neðan was the only dragon allowed to stay on deck but kept out of the way by napping in a corner.

“My baby!” Mrs. Larson cried out, launching herself onto the longboat and at Gustav before they had even managed to dock.

“Ah! Fanghook! Save me!” the boy pleaded from under his mother’s weight, but the young Monstrous Nightmare was smarter than that. He didn’t even bother landing and took off in the direction of the Academy.

“Aunt Gothi,” Terrorthi squealed, throwing herself at her allusive aunt. Allowing Jack to catch his first glimpse of the woman he’d heard so much about but never really meet in person. She wasn’t anything like the brunet had imagined.

From what he’d heard of her, Gothi was larger than life. In reality, she was a very short elderly lady that hunched over to the point she was only barely taller than her niece. The woman’s wavy grey hair was tied together in braided pigtails rested underneath a Viking helmet with a pair of curry horns. Faint blue tattoos of dragons peaked out beneath the brown vest sleeve of her left shoulder and Jack had a feeling the worn leather tunic and red pants covered up a number of other tattoos as well. Heavy boots and fur arm warmers kept frail arms and feet warm but it was the wooden staff twice her size with a dragon’s roaring head carved at the top and dragons’ teeth tied to it which held Jack’s gaze.

When world weary blue eyes gazed down at her niece, a new light came to life in them as the healer used her staff to tap the girl on the head. Terrorthi only laughed and hugged her aunt tighter while Neðan waited behind his rider. However, Gothi didn’t leave him out either and motioned to the dragon to come closer. The Whispering Death surged forward coiling around the two and hummed contently.

“Mom,” Snuffnut threw himself at Puffnut waiting on the dock. The boy’s father stood behind his wife and once the blond Viking was finished greeting his mother, he threw himself at his father.

As Snuffnut excitedly told his father all about his adventure filled trip, Gruffnut walked up and patted his sister on the shoulder. Torch watched for a moment from the sky before landing on the dock and enveloping them all within his massive wings span while Skully just glared at the younger dragon. Apparently he still wasn’t over them being thrown off the longboat because of the Typhoomerang’s pent up energy.

Jack nodded to the few Vikings who he knew by sight as he walked off the boat and a few of them even nodded back before boarding the boat to help Typhan offload what remained of his wares along with the goods they had picked up on their travels. The Druid had offered to help with the work, but Bucket had sent him on his way. He really should have known the Winter King in disguise had done so for a reason. However, the brunet didn’t think anything of it and just collected his meager belongs before disembarked with two Terrible Terrors in tow.

Thus, Jack wasn’t paying much attention and ran smackdab into Hiccup. For once, neither of them fell as the Dragon Rider quickly wrapped his arms around the Druid to steady both of them. Looking down – which he really shouldn’t have been walking while staring up at the sky, but it was an old habit he hadn’t broken himself of quite yet – amber eyes crinkled as he grinned sheepishly.

“Hi Hiccup,” the ex-spirit greeted as he looked into vivid green eyes, “mind letting me go?”

Hands quickly fell away as the auburn haired teenager took a quick step back, his cheeks a little red which had Jack wondering what he had been doing before they had run into each other. Toothless had no problem getting between the two, stealing the Druid’s attention away from his rider and all for himself. The brunet happily obliged the Night Fury with a laugh, scratching behind his ear-plates while cooing at the puppy like behavior.

“Jackson, I… uh…” Hiccup stuttered, rubbing his shoulder nervously which drew amber eyes away from overexcited dragon and back towards his rider. Had Jack injured the other teenager when they collided? He hadn’t thought they had bumped into each other that hard but with the Viking continuing to rub at his shoulder, he was beginning to think differently. The Druid opened his mouth to apologize, only for Hiccup to greet him properly. “Welcome back. How was your trip?”

“Good,” Jack grinned at the mentioned of the trip. All thoughts of possibly injuring the Dragon Rider fled his mind due to pleasant memories of the trip surfacing to the forefront of his mind.

The trip had been great. The Druid had been able to trade some of the items the Wyldfae had given him along with a few pelts he had earned from Finn and Gruffnut for supplies he needed but couldn’t get his hands on in Berk. Then there was all the fun he had playing with the local children and telling them stories about Jokul Frosti. On top of that, Jack had continued with training the three young Dragon Rider Trainees and their dragons by running them through exercises and drills he had seen Hiccup put the other Dragon Riders through.

The brunet had even been able to assist the Berk Guard Commander in her quest, which reminded him. “Huffnut’s scouting mission proved to be successful, she was able to confirm what we already knew.”

“Oh, and what would that be?”

“That Dagur’s supposed new weapon he was test-firing was all a hoax to get you to come to Outcast Island. It was a trap,” the Druid lost some of his earlier cheer, his pointer finger agitatedly fingering at the dragon scale dangling from the staff.

“I thought so,” the Dragon Rider gave a brisk nod, vivid green eyes glancing out towards the ocean, before turning back to look at him. “So, what else did you do?”

“Well, I was able to help Typhan offload some of the Craft Guild’s wares – along with some of my own – with Gruffnut’s help,” Jack began, tapping the finger from his unoccupied hand to his chin as he recalled all he had accomplished in the last ten days. “I also helped Gustav, Snuffnut, and Terrorthi with their flying.”

“You didn’t fly with them, did you?” Hiccup asked, his voice raising a little in concerned. Toothless’s low growls were cutoff with a gentle pat to his head. “I mean, they’re still pretty new at the whole flying thing and I wouldn’t want any of you to get hurt.”

“Relax Hiccup,” the brunet waved him off as they began the climb up the slope to the village. “I only offered them some advice from the boat while they flew over the ocean. And told them what to do when there were crosswinds.” Jack grinned at the memory of all three of the Dragon Rider Trainees and dragons coming out of the lesson soaking wet. “Let’s just say they took the lessons a little more seriously after we hit a few crosswinds during our travels.

“I also worked on Pain’s fish scouting lessons. Sharpshot joined in, though he wasn’t all that good at it. I don’t think he was too happy he failed at something,” Jack went on about the journey.

“I can see that,” Hiccup chuckled pointing to the two Terrible Terrors perched on top of the Druid’s staff, the green dragon hunched over in a look of pure defeat.

Jack looked around suspiciously and then said in a fake stage whisper. “Between you and me, I think Pain missed Snotlout.”

They both laughed when the purple Terrible Terror let out a high pitch screech at the insinuation. The dragon gained some of his trainer’s prideful attributes and was apparently easily offended. Glaring, Pain flew off the Druid’s staff and into the village, away from the two teenagers laughing at his expense. However, Sharpshot seemed to brighten up now they weren’t laminating over his failure to locate even a single school of fish.  

“I think we offended him,” Hiccup finished chuckling now Pain was no longer in sight.

“I think so too,” the brunet nodded in agreement, before turning his head towards the Viking. “So, what’s been going on here while I was gone? No more Screaming Death attacks I hope?”

“No, no Screaming Death attacks,” the Head of the Dragon Academy breathed out, sounding a little off which had amber eyes give him a sideways glance. He held in his grin when he saw the auburn haired teenager’s resolve crumble and got him talking. “Dagur did though.”

Jack stopped walking; Hiccup did not. Without even thinking, he used his staff to grab Hiccup by the back of his vest which effectively dislodging the green Terrible Terror from on top of the gnarled piece of wood due to the abrupt action. Not that he cared at the moment. His eyes were fixated on the Viking as he turned the shorter teenager around so vivid eyes locked with his own.

“Start talking, _now_.”

Hiccup rubbed the back of his head, glancing over at Sharpshot as the dragon landed on top of Toothless’s head. “Dagur used Trader Johann in another one of his traps. One of his Berserker sold a pile of scrap metal to him and Gobber bought the scrap metal.”

“Okay, I’m not seeing anything devious here,” the Druid let his body relax and leaned his weight against his crook, confused as to why this was bad.

The chief’s son shook his head. “It wasn't just a pile of scrap metal Trader Johann sold Gobber, but the nest of Smothering Smokebreaths with hatchlings inside.”

“Smothering Smokebreaths,” Jack said, attempting to remember all the dragons he knew of but couldn’t bring forth a picture the dragon in his head. “Don’t think I’ve heard of it.”

“You wouldn’t, they aren’t in _The Book of Dragons_ since they were thought to be a myth. We found out otherwise when we rain into the tiny dragons awhile before you got here. They normally habitat Breakneck Bog and steal metal to build their nests. Not to mention they breathe smoke, which allows them to undermine their prey,” Hiccup described the dragons and the brunet found himself nodded along in understanding. “Anyways, the adolescent Smothering Smokebreaths stole our weapons leaving us defenseless against Dagur’s armada which sailed in the next day.”

“So what did you do?” the brunet urged Hiccup on, having proof all around him the deranged man wasn’t successful in his attempts to take Berk by force.

“We had the villagers rounded up all the remaining metal and used it as bait to locate the Smothering Smokebreaths’s nest. The plan worked and we followed the dragons to their nest, but Dagur was practically upon us. There was no way we could battle the Smothering Smokebreaths for our weapons and battle Dagur at the same time.

“We could, however, use what little metal remained and drop it on Dagur’s armada,” the Head of the Dragon Academy grinned at the unfortunate events which befell the Berserkers’ at his hands. “The Smothering Smokebreaths did the rest, taking every piece of metal from the Berserks Armada and rendering them weaponless and boatless. Everyone’s metal was returned to them and we took the Smothering Smokebreaths back to Breakneck Bog with the help of Trader Johann of course.”

“Of course,” Jack agreed as they once again headed up towards the village. “Anything else happened while I was gone?”

Sighing, the auburn haired teenager ran his hand through his hair, pushing his bangs to stand up unintentionally. “Dad had to release Thornado.”

“What, why?” the brunet found his mouth dropping open and quickly snapped it shut. He knew the chief adored the Tidal-class dragon and Thornado adored him as well. Why would either of them agree to go their separate ways?

“We found three adolescent Thunderdrums which couldn’t stay on Berk due to their undeveloped control on their sonic blast despite my best efforts to convince my Dad otherwise. They couldn’t stay on Dragon Island alone either because of the other wild dragons would attack them. So Dad let Thornado go to be their protector,” Hiccup finished as they finally reached the top of the cliff and the village.

“He made the right choice,” Jack approved of the chief’s decision because it was the right thing to do. Tilting his head to the side, the brunet blink when a familiar purpled dragon came flying back and landed on top of his staff once more. “Hey look who’s come back. What’s the matter, Pain? Couldn’t find Snotlout?” The little dragon emitted a grumbled and turned his head to the side. “Hm, I wonder where he is? Don't worry Pain, we'll just meet up with him at the Academy," the Druid assured the Terrible Terror.

"He won't be there," Hiccup hesitated, pulling at his bangs with both hands and effectively hiding his face. The behavior was odd – even for the Viking – which had amber eyes darting over to Toothless who was looking at his rider, waiting for the teenager to answer. "He… uh… he's been suspended from the Academy."

"Suspended, why?" Jack eyed the auburn haired teenager. He knew the verdict was up to Hiccup to make, being the Head of the Dragon Training Academy and all, but he couldn’t see why Hiccup would make such a choice.

The slightly smaller teenager’s whole body tensed up as he gritted his teeth, vivid green eyes hard as he glared at the forests. "He didn't follow orders during a training exercise."

"That seems a little harsh of a punishment for simply disobeying orders during a training exercise," the brunet hummed casually, not seeing how that would have gotten Snotlout suspended when he had done much – _much_ – worse.

"It wasn't that simple!" Hiccup snapped, causing the ex-spirit to staggering backwards from the venom behind the normally calm Viking’s voice.

"Then why don't you simplify it for me?" Jack said in a deadly calm voice, his eyes narrowing and his own voice becoming hard. He felt like he was on trial here and not the other burnet who wasn’t even here to defend himself. Snotlout did not deserve this kind of treatment, no matter the case.

"He almost got Astrid killed because he didn’t fall back! Instead, he fired at the catapult which released a boulder and hit Astrid," the Dragon Rider all but yelled, seething.

"Which is the purpose of training exercises," the Druid pointed out logically, his grip tightening on his staff as he tried to keep his emotions in check. "To make sure things like that don't happen out in the real battlefields by working out tactics beforehand in a controlled environment; for teammates to figure out each other’s strengths and weaknesses, to learn to work together as a _team_.

"Yeah, it sounds like Snotlout messes up, but that doesn't justify kicking him out of the Academy,” Jack continued with an unyielding sternness, making a motion with his hand at each of his points. “Punish him in a different way; make him clean out the dragons' pens. Give him something to do so he can reflect over his mistakes and if he hasn't learned his lesson, talk to him.   Don't banish him," the brunet spat out, turning his back on Hiccup and heading into the village with Pain. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to find Snotlout."

Jack stomped away from the Dragon Rider fuming. He hadn't done anything and Hiccup had taken out his anger at him. That was _not_ how a leader should act – _ever_ – and he wasn’t about to take that kind of treatment. He didn’t even slow his pace when he heard the call of his name from behind him. The ex-spirit simple ducked between two huts and with a hop, skip and a jump, he was running across rooftops with Pain flying beside him.

A flash of blue overhead had the Druid slowing down and coming to a stop. Looking up, he shielded his eyes with his unoccupied arm and smiled as wings blew gusts of winds at his face, causing his hair to become messier than it already was in his mad dash to get away from Hiccup.

"Jackson! It's good to see you," Astrid greeted him, Stormfly giving a chirp of her own in greeting as well.

"It's good to see you as well, I heard you almost got killed when I was gone," Jack smiled at the shieldmaiden, moving to the side to make room for the Deadly Nadder to land. Hopefully, whoever’s hut they were standing on wouldn’t mind the dragon’s presence.

"I see you've already talked to Hiccup," the blonde teenager sighed as Stormfly settled down on the roof.

"Yeah, although, I wouldn't call it talking per se," the Druid brushed it aside, not wanting to get her involved with his problem with Hiccup. "You want to tell me what happened? I didn't get much out of Hiccup other than it was Snotlout's fault you almost died."

"I won’t say it was all Snotlout's fault. Uncle Finn berated me for not paying attention to my surroundings, so it was kinda my fault too," Astrid grumbled, hanging her head low. A second later, blue eyes peered over at him with soft eyes as she bit her upper lip. "Not that I admitted it at the time."

“I know the feeling," Jack gave a self-deprecating chuckle, letting the shieldmaiden know he knew exactly how she felt. "So what went on?"

"Well, it was a mock ambush attack. Uncle Finn, Gobber and Puffnut were in the forest with catapults and were fired upon us as we flew over. We were supposed to practice evading the attacks. However, Hiccup called for a retreat," the blonde haired teenager grimaced and the burnet could tell the memory was being played behind blue eyes.

The ex-spirit could already see where this was going. "And let me guess, Snotlout didn't retreat?"

"Nope," Astrid answered rolling her eyes. "He attacked the catapults."

"I would have done the same thing," Jack admitted, rubbing the back of his head and looking up at the sky. He _had_ done the same thing during the bombardment of Nightmare Men on Santoff Claussen which was how he had wound up in the past to begin with. "I'm not smart enough to know when to retreat."

"I'll have to remember that," the shieldmaiden muttered under her breath – yet the winds were nice enough to deliver the remark to his ears – before raising her voice back to normal. "Anyways, one of the catapults was already malfunctioning from what Gobber said, but when Snotlout hit the thing, it fired and sent a boulder our way. Hiccup was able to dodge it, but I wasn't paying attention to what was going on behind me and only turned around when the others shouted out warnings. I tried to dodge at the last second, but I leaned out too far and ended up falling out of Stormfly's saddle."

The Deadly Nadder chirped sadly, lowering her head in shame. Her rider leaned forward and patted the dragon just below the crown of spike to reassure Stormfly it wasn’t her fault. The dragon leaned into the touch, letting out a thrill of sorrow.

"Hush girl, it was my fault, not yours," Astrid cooed, placing her head against the dragon’s crown which appeared to finally appease the Deadly Nader. "Hiccup and Toothless were able to catch me and I was too upset at my own stupid actions that I lashed out at Snotlout and Hiccup did the same, grounding Snotlout. Although when we got back, Uncle Finn sat me down with my parents and we discussed what happened. Ma was the one to point out I was just as much at fault for not paying attention to my surrounding as Snotlout was and, like I already said, Uncle Finn berated me for not paying attention. It could get a warrior killed."

"Agreed," Jack grimace remembering how Tooth hadn't been paying attention and he had to intervene to rescue her. Although, Sandy had ended up rescuing her while he just used his body as a shield, because he wasn't smart enough to have enough common sense to listen to his self-preservation instincts. "I was going to go look for him and see how he was doing. That and Pain missed him."

The Terrible Terror chirped, taking to the air once more and circling around their heads impatiently.

"I'd like to go with you, I need to apology," the shieldmaiden said, nudging Stormfly to take off.

“Okay,” the brunet nodded. A moment later a grin spreading across his face as he took a running jumped at the next roof, throwing behind him, “race ya.”

“ _Hey!_ Get back here you cheater. _Jackson!_ ”

* * *

Hiccup dragged his feet through the door to his home, glancing back to see Toothless was stubbornly staying outside. He paused when he saw his father sitting at the table with two blocks of ice. One of the ice blocks rested innocently on the table while the other was held to the chief’s head as his helmet hung on the back of the chair he was currently sitting in.

“Tough day, Dad?” Hiccup asked as he closed the door and affecting ending the angry stare he was receiving from the Night Fury.

“Aye,” Stoick said turning toward his son. “Some days it's not so easy being a leader.”

“Oh, tell me about it,” the Head of the Dragon Training Academy groaned, taking a seat next to his father and scratched his head. “I think I may have a little situation with Snotlout.”

The chief grunted and handed the teen the other block of ice, which Hiccup gladly took. “And what's he done now?”

“He disobeyed a direct order, so I grounded him, and now he's refusing to obey that order! And then Jackson returns and when I told him about it, he goes and sides with Snotlout,” he ranted, holding the block of ice up to his head while waving his other arm around erratically. He purposely excluded the valid points Jackson had made that he had been too angry at almost losing someone on his watch to listen to. Hiccup was their leader, he was responsible for them, and Astrid had almost died and it would have been his fault ultimately. “I-I don't know what to do. Do I expel him from the academy for good?”

“Is that what you really want?” Stoick asked, placing his block of ice down on the table and standing up. His father than took the block of ice out of his hand and set that down on the table too.

“No. But I also don't want to put the other riders at risk,” the teenager confessed, hands falling limply to his sides as all the steam left him.

“Hmm, tough one,” the older man muttered, glancing into green eyes before looking up and to the right as he thought of something sad going by the frown on his face. “Decisions like this, never easy. I've made more than a few in my day.”

“Then, how do you do it? How can you be someone's leader and…,” Hiccup stumbled over his words as his mouth tried to keep up with what his mind was saying, “…and still be their friend?”

“You can't, not always,” Stoick answered honestly and the Dragon Rider looked up to see the serious look in his father’s eyes. “Son, someday you will be chief. And when that day comes, you'll have to make choices, not for your friends or for yourself, but all of Berk.”

Hiccup gulped at the implication and shook his head as all the horrible nightmares came surging forth from the back of his mind. He wasn’t prepared to become Berk’s chief any time soon. A silent pray was sent up to all the gods and goddesses that his father would have a long, fulfilling life.

His prayers were interrupted by the door barging open and banging against the wall. “Stoick! Come quick! There- there’s a…. and… chief! You’ve got to come!”

“Alright, alright,” Stoick said to the clearly flustered Viking as the two Haddocks followed the man outside and to the edge of Berk where there is a whole crowd of murmuring villagers gather tightly around something. However, they parted as their chief made his way through to the center. “Alright, what's going on here? Who is…?”

The chief trailed off when the final two Vikings moved out of his way to allow him access to the focus of his tribe. Snotlout was in the middle laying on the ground with Astrid – twirling the handle of her axe agitatedly in her hands – Jackson – holding his staff defensively before him with his legs coiled, ready to spring forward – and a purple Terrible Terror – flying and hissing – standing protectively around him. Separate from them stood the ragged and battered figure of the presumed to be dead Outcast Chief with Hookfang standing behind him, keeping the man from running.

“I captured him,” the downed Monstrous Nightmare rider held up his hand weak before he passed out completely. It was a good thing he was already on the ground since it wasn’t likely anyone was going to be moving to catch him if he had fallen, not with the outcast before them.

“Alvin?” Stoick’s face slackened and his eyes widened at the sight the weary Outcast surrounded by enemy combatant yet not making a move to attack.

“Alvin?” Hiccup echoed, copying his father’s expression, a millisecond later.


	43. Those Casted Aside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE POSTED A DAY EARLY! *Does a happy dance* This has put me in a good mood as many of you can probably tell by my use of caps lock.
> 
> RainbowDoom: Hiccup bailed hard with his feelings and ended up sticking his foot in his mouth. He tends to do that a lot, even in the show. XP
> 
> Acesmol: Welcome new reader, I am pleased I've corrupted *clears throat* I mean, I am pleased I've changed your opinion on HiJack ship with the way I write the pairing. I'm also pleased to hear you liking my Merlin inspired references and think Jack was super cool when acting like Jokul Frosti (I'm dying for someone to actually draw me a picture of that scene, but alas, I've got no fanart save the one I commissioned for myself. T.T) 
> 
> Huh, of the reviews I've received for the last chapter, a lot of you sided with Snotlout instead of Hiccup. I really didn't see that coming. Also, who said Jack wasn't Jack Frost anymore? I just said there wasn't a way for him to hope, skip, and jump Back to the Future. (Horrible pun there, I know.) How does that equate to him not being Jack Frost?

“Alvin the Treacherous you are hereby charged with the following crimes: treachery, attempted treachery, premeditated treachery, conspiracy to commit treachery, and… Well, you get the idea!” Gobber read off the list of accusations in front of the large crowd of angry Hairy Hooligan tribal members. Almost the whole tribe had packed themselves like sardines into the Great Hall, clamoring to see the man who had tried to kill them on countless occasions before and betrayed them – and their chief – years prior.

Said man was shackled in manacles and chains, standing in the center of the ring of livid spectators. His already shabby clothing from wherever he had been laying low had become even worse as the villagers threw rotten vegetables at him. There would have been sharper, heavier, and deadlier objects being thrown if Stoick wasn’t standing mere feet in front of the bound man with Hiccup to his father’s right. While the tribe was willing to lynch Alvin, they weren’t willing to risk injuring their chief to get to the Outcast. That didn’t stop them from voicing their desires.

“We want his head!”

“Down with Alvin!”

“Feed him to the dragons!”

“Blood!”

“Drowned him at sea!”

“Settle down, everyone,” Stoick spoke loud enough to be heard while making a slow smoothing gesture with his hand to quiet the Vikings down. Once they were settled, green eyes hardened into gems as they drilled into the prisoner. “Alvin the Treacherous, you will be remanded to our jail until a proper sentence can be handed down.”

“Is this how you treat a man who saved a valuable life?” Alvin sneered, his shackles rattling as he lunged forward but the chains did their jobs kept him in place.

“Valuable?” Tuffnut whispered and despite not being loud, Hiccup clearly heard the comment since the twins were only a short distance from him. The loud clamoring going on around them doing nothing to mask the skepticism in the blond Viking’s voice.

“Snotlout?” Ruffnut asked just as skeptical and if Jackson were there, the Head of the Dragon Academy knew he would be bopping both of them on the head for their comments. However, seeing as the Druid was still mad at Hiccup and he didn’t seem to want to be in the same room as the auburn haired Viking, Jackson wasn’t there. Instead, he and Astrid had taken Snotlout to Gothi’s for the healer to look him over for lasting injuries.

“I know you, Alvin,” his father spoke, drawing Hiccup’s attention back to the hearing. “You didn't do this for Snotlout. You did it for yourself.”

“What could I possibly have to gain from coming here?” the Outcast snorted as he held up his hands the best he could in his restrained position, deliberately allowing the chains to make as much noise as possible. “I did it for us both, Stoick,” he insisted. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Not interested,” the chief tersely bit out. Not allowing the prisoner a chance to say anything more, Stoick turned to address the crowd. “That's it, everyone! Go home.”

A glance from the chief had Gobber and Finn ushering the villagers out of the Great Hall whilst Huffnut made a complicate hand gesture at a few of her guards who lead Alvin to his new living arrangements: the cells. Hiccup and twins stayed behind, watched as Stoick made his way toward the tables which had been pushed to the back of the Great Hall to make room for everyone. Those who weren’t ushered out – Berk Guard Commander, Spitelout and a few others who made up Stoick’s Council – joined the chief at the table to discuss Alvin’s sentencing.

Hiccup thought about joining the council meeting. He wanted to be involved and assisted his father, but he hesitated. There wasn’t much he could do to help. Not in this situation. There were no dragons to deal with, no advice he could give that the chief couldn’t get from one of his own council members who, quite frankly, had a better understanding of the situation than he did. In all honesty though, the Dragon Rider didn’t _know_ how to deal with any of it.

“Hiccup!” Astrid’s voice penetrated through his self-doubt, causing him to glance towards the doors where the shieldmaiden was fighting her way against the crowd to get through. She had to squeeze passed two Vikings by turning sideways and even then, she had some problems. Fishlegs – who was following behind her – didn’t seem to have any problems on the other hand. He just plowed through the other villagers with no problem. Finally, the two reached him, Astrid huffing slightly to catch her breath.

“You okay?”

The Deadly Nadder rider waved him off with a hand. “Snotlout just woke up, and apparently Alvin wasn't the only big, nasty creature on the island he had flown out to.”

“The Screaming Death. It's closing in on Berk,” Fishlegs cut in as the shieldmaiden took a deep breath, which had Astrid glaring at him for daring to interrupt her. Although, for once, she let it slid in light of the dire situation and probably due to the fact all the blood currently draining from Hiccup’s face, leaving him as pale as a ghost.

“Well, that's fantastic news,” the auburn haired Viking replied automatically, wishing he had a table to bang his fists against. Or his head, he wasn’t picky. Nevertheless, Hiccup forced himself to keep his composure and closed his eyes while taking a deep breath to keep from freaking out. Once that was done, he opened his eyes to see four Dragon Riders all looking at him, waiting for a command. His command. Letting out his breath slowly, he headed for the door himself, making a motion with his hands for the others to follow. “Come on.”

He would let his father and his council deal with Alvin in the Great Hall while he and his council of Dragon Riders made preparations for the Screaming Death at the Academy. This, at least, was something he could handle.

* * *

Hiccup felt a little better sitting in Toothless’s saddle as they dodged Stormfly’s fireball, the confined space of the Academy didn’t make the feat easy, but that was the point of their current training drill. Due to the Screaming Death’s large mass, they had the advantage of outmaneuvering the Titan Wing class dragon. All the Academy members needed now was more practice seeing as Bark and Belch crashed into the dome ceiling, sending their riders flying while attempting to dodge Meatlug’s lava blast.

“Come on, you guys, focus,” the Head of the Dragon Training Academy urged them as the Night Fury beneath him did a tight backflip and landed on the ground, albeit a bit harder than intended having to move fast in order to dodge the spine shot coming from behind. “We need to figure out a way to stop the Screaming Death from reaching Berk.”

The words no sooner left his mouth than Hookfang swooped through the Academy entrance – with Snotlout on his back – and right into the path of Meatlug. There was no collision as the larger dragon easily flicked the Gronckle away with a single wing, sending the smaller dragon spinning off towards the wall. Fishlegs fought to get their bearings back under control, barely succeeding in preventing them from slamming into the wall. The Gronckle rider was, however, thrown off of Meatlug’s back in the process and landed in a heap of tangled limbs, groaning in pain.

“Hey, everyone!” Snotlout clamored for everyone’s attention as he dismounted the Monstrous Nightmare and strutted arrogantly over towards his cousin. Hiccup felt the muscles in his jaw clench together, his hands tightening on Toothless’s saddle, while eyes narrowed at the audacity of the brunet and for once, Snotlout picked up on his bad mood. The Monstrous Nightmare rider’s confident gait briefly faltered and instead of looking at Hiccup, he turned to wave at Astrid as he went. “Did you miss me? Of course you did. Ha! Why do I even ask?”

“Snotlout, I'm very happy you're okay,” the Night Fury rider began as he dismounted Toothless while trying to keep calm. He had already blown up at Jackson – which he was very much regretting – and he wasn’t about to let his lingering anger get the best of him now. Nevertheless, he still was the Head of the Dragon Training Academy and all the other riders and the trainees were his responsibility. Hiccup could not have his cousin messing things up. Not at a time like this.

What was worse, Snotlout didn’t even appear to regret his actions. He knew the burly Viking had never apologized to Astrid and with what just happened with Meatlug and Fishlegs, he was reckless as ever.

“Oh, me? Ha! I'm more than okay,” his cousin said, not even looking at him.

Instead, Snotlout had walked over to Astrid and was currently wiggling his eyebrows at her. She just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, letting out a snort, yet there was no bodily injury coming from the usually violent shieldmaiden as Hiccup expected. In fact, it even looked like there was a quark of her lips going on as she fought not to laugh at the Monstrous Nightmare’s antics. A fact which wasn’t picked up by the Night Fury rider, causing the Vikings anger to well up once more seeing Snotlout’s nonchalant interaction with the Hofferson despite everything he had put Astrid through.

“You broke the rules, again,” Hiccup gritted out harshly, a frown making its way on his face. “And you almost got yourself killed in the process. Not to mention the training exercise where you almost got Astrid killed.”

“So? Me and Astrid–,” Snotlout started to say but didn’t get the chance to finish as the Head of the Academy spoke over him.

“So? _You_ Are Still Suspended,” Hiccup laid down the law, crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn’t about to be pushed around by his cousin, not this time.

“What?” the Monstrous Nightmare rider reeled back in disbelief, his causal demeanor dissolving and even Astrid’s arms fell to her side as a shock expression overtook her face.

“I found the Screaming Death!” Snotlout stalked over to Hiccup, arms swinging back and forth with each step, biceps clenching up while the brunet’s own features hardened in rage. “And, I captured Alvin the Treacherous!”

“Weren't you unconscious when you ‘captured’ him?” Astrid huffed, giving the burly Viking a look the auburn haired teenager could not decipher.

“Unconscious like a fox,” the burnet Viking snapped, only to lose some of his steam at his own comment. Obviously, it didn’t come out like he had wanted.

“Uh, that doesn't even make sense to me, and I am foxy like a badger,” Tuffnut pointed out from where he, Ruffnut, Fishlegs, and their two dragons stood to the side, watching the whole byplay.

“And that make even less sense,” Fishlegs muttered out, only intending for the twins to hear him, but with the tense silence everyone heard him.

“Look, nothing's changed. You're still suspended,” Hiccup ignored everyone else around him and walked around his cousin over to Hookfang. Grabbing one of the straps securing the saddle to the Monstrous Nightmare’s neck, the Dragon Rider began leading him to one of the Academy pens. “I'm sorry, Hookfang, but you’ll have to stay in your pen for a little while.”

“You can't do this, Hiccup! You can't take away my dragon,” Snotlout cried out even as the chief’s son closed the door and headed over to the locking mechanism. Hiccup had to put all his weight into wrenching the lever after years of disuse. A heavy wooden bolt lowered into the metal latches and sealed the door, effectively locking the Monstrous Nightmare inside.

In all honesty, Hiccup had gotten the idea from Jackson. Not exactly locking up the dragons, but giving Snotlout a punishment which he could spend time reflecting over his mistakes and in hopes of him truly learning a lesson.

“Hookfang?” the shorter Viking quietly called out, reaching through the latticed bars and rubbing the dragon’s maw. Hookfang whined, not understanding why he was being confined and Hiccup politely pretended to not notice as he left the arena. The other Dragon Riders following after him save for Astrid who stayed back and put a comforting hand on Snotlout’s shoulder.

Instead, he mounted Toothless and flew off. For a moment he thought he might go visit Jackson, but seeing as he didn’t know where to find him and the very high probability the Druid was still mad at him, the Night Fury rider deemed it in his best interest to gather some intel of his own. One of Huffnut’s men had been kind enough to deliver a message to him at the Academy informing him Alvin wanted to speak with Hiccup.

The stubborn Viking wasn’t about to give the man the pleasure in him running to hear whatever he had to say and had continued on with their council meeting which had transitioned into training drills with the rest of the Academy members. Now that he had free time, and Alvin had stewed awhile, Hiccup decided he was willing to hear what the former Outcast Chief had to say.

Flying down to the jails, the chief’s some was only half surprised there was an angry mob situated around the jailhouse. He could understand though, a few of the ones he spotted had lost loved one to the treacherous Viking.

“Treachery!”

“Blood!”

“Justice!”

“Guts!”

“His head!”

“Down with Alvin!”

“We want justice!”

Some of the things they were shouting – which he was deliberately ignoring – weren’t for young ears and as he flew over, he spotted a few children present. Meaning Jackson wasn’t present in Berk since he’d have already drawn the younger ones away from the mob. The brunet abhorred any child, even a few of the younger teenagers, from baring witness to violence if he could help it and protected them as much as he could.

It was the thought of the Druid that had Hiccup reminding himself he wasn’t thinking about Jackson. He had to worry about more important things. Like landing Toothless away from the mob and having him lead the way through the crowd. No one would bump into Toothless, no one. Thus, no one bumped into Hiccup as he determinedly walked up to where two of the Berk’s Guards stood on either side of the door.

One of them nodded to him, and both uncrossed their spears blocking the door, allowing the two entrance. The auburn haired teenager walked the length of the jail all the way to the very back, to the last cell where barely any light reached. Looking in, Hiccup saw the once feared Viking was reduced to sitting on the floor with nothing but a stool and a mug in his prison.

“I was told you wanted to see me?” the chief’s son put on a brave face and stepped in front of Toothless, looking through small opening covered in bars on the thick wooden door. The man just chuckled, the sound grating on Hiccup’s last nerve but he fought to keep his indifference façade. The Night Fury, on the other hand, had no problem growling, his teeth unsheathing themselves in hopes to scare. “What do you want, Alvin?”

“I have a proposal for you, Hiccup,” Alvin said, pushing himself up off the floor and strolling towards the door as if he wasn’t caged like the animal he was. Toothless growling grew louder the closer he came, causing the large man to halt in mid-stride. In turn, Hiccup place a gentle hand on the dragon’s head and the Night Fury ceased his growling. Acid green eyes narrowed into slits, lips curled to show off dagger like teeth in a silence threat.

“Well, this should be good,” the teenager snapped back sarcastically.

“This Dagur, he's a bit of a loose catapult, wouldn't you say?” the Outcast offered as if he was dangling a juice piece of bait in front of a starving dragon.

“That's one way to put it,” the Head of the Dragon Training Academy answered. He would have shrugged if he was with his Dragon Riders, but he didn’t want to show Alvin and sort of emotion that could be used against him. It was a good thing too as the ex-chief stopped and observed him, searching for a weakness but Hiccup didn’t think he found one. Grunting, the traitor continued on. “Well, he forced me off my own island, and I want it back.”

“Why, so you can get back to the business of destroying our island?” the chief’s son shot back, not giving an inch.

“Oh, Hiccup. I was upset!” Alvin glanced off towards the side and Hiccup knew there was something there. What it was he wasn’t sure of, yet.

Instead, he fell back on his sarcasm which seemed to serve him well in the past. “For twenty years?”

Alvin grabbed the bars suddenly and pulled his face right up against the cold metal. The dark shadows under his eyes all the more visible, showing how haggard the Viking really was. Hiccup watched the wrinkles on his face were deep, bringing his attention to the few grey hairs in the man’s otherwise dark beard.

“Very upset,” letting go of the bars, the traitorous man leaned back, looking up at the top of the wooden door. Alvin appeared to be caught up in his own memories and the teenager briefly wondered what the man was remembering. Everyone knew the original Outcast had been born in the Hairy Hooligans Tribe, but had been casted out. For whatever reason, Hiccup didn’t know, only that there had been some type of betrayal and Alvin had left Berk with the new moniker: Alvin the Treacherous.

“You know, losing everything tends to make a man see things differently,” the traitor of Berk spoke up, because that is exactly what he had done. He had lost everything.

The chief’s son wasn’t about to fall so easy. “So, you're saying… you've changed?”

“I'm saying, I'm trying to,” the man admitted which came more of a surprise to Hiccup than anything else. If Alvin had said he had changed, the auburn haired Viking would have walked out right then. However, it was because of man’s honesty that he stayed.

“All right,” Hiccup said slowly, looking the man straight in the eyes, “let's say we accept this proposal. What's in it for Berk?”

“The Berserkers gone and the Outcasts your allies.”

Hiccup left the cell much latter and headed home with a lot on his mind. Him and Toothless went on their usually evening flight, but his mind was too distracted to truly enjoy it. There was just too much going on and he was drowning in all of it. The Dragon Rider didn’t know what to do and he didn’t even know where to start looking for a solution.

Reaching home, he listlessly feed Toothless his dinner of fish and sat down at the table where his father already had their evening meal prepared. It was just some chicken, which was tough and tasteless, further reminding Hiccup he hadn’t had Jackson’s cooking in almost two whole weeks. He had started to get used to the finer meals and had been looking forwards to the Druid’s return. Though, that was a far cry from the true reason he had wanted to see the burnet again but then he had to go and ruin Jackson’s return.

“All right, spit it out, son. You've been staring at me all night,” Stoick spoke up, bringing Hiccup back to his senses. He hadn’t even realized he had been staring at his father until that moment. Still, it gave him the opportunity to ask a few questions which his conversation with Alvin had brought to his attention. Questions he hadn’t been willing to ask Alvin for the answers in fear the man would lie.

Or worse yet, tell him a truth he didn’t want to hear.

“Wh-what exactly did Alvin do to get cast out?” the teenager asked, his eyes looking at the table at the beginning of his question and ended up looking straight at his father in the end.

“I don't want to discuss it,” Stoick turned his head away, stabbing a fork into the piece of chicken on his plate. The middle prong of the fork snapped off and the chief glared at the offending piece of curtly before throwing it to the side.

“But, where did it all start? I mean-,” Hiccup placed his fork down and raised a hand up in a questioning gesture. However, before he could get any further, the chief slammed his fist down on the table, making the plates rattle and Toothless to hunch over his fish, looking for any trouble while guarding his dinner.

“It doesn't matter where it started…” his father snapped, jerking his head way from his son to keep from glaring at the teenager, “…just where it ended.”

“Yes, but, I just want to know. I… I need to know,” the Head of the Academy made another attempted to garner more information.

“All you need to know is that Alvin is our enemy,” Stoick said, pushing himself up with his hand planted firmly on the table while his chair screeched across the floor as it was forced back, “and that will never change.”

With that, the chief stormed out through the hut and into his bedroom, slamming the door close behind him.

* * *

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jack asked Snotlout as they stood off to the side of what was Berk’s jailhouse. The brunet didn’t even know they had a jailhouse until Alvin had been thrown inside. He had originally thought the place was another storage building and he was proven half right when some of the Guards had carried out some sacks and barrels from one of the other cells before moving Alvin in.

“I’m sure,” Snotlout nodded his head while Fawn zipped off of the Druid’s shoulder from where she sat with the other fae and patted the Viking on the nose in comfort. He weakly smiled and offered his palm to the Wyldfae. The little burnt orange ball of light made a tinkering noise before delicately landing on his hand. He then brought his hand up to his shoulder and allowed her to take up residence there for the time being, allowing him to draw comfort from the small creature. “Alright, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Nodding his head, Jack followed the Jorgenson towards the jailhouse. They stopped before the two Guards who just looked at them with judging eyes. Snotlout glared back and the younger redheaded Guard flinched under the stare.

“ _Move_ ,” Snotlout Jorgenson demanded with a hard voice. The raven haired Guard held out for all of three seconds before pulling his spear back and allowing them entrance.

Together, the two teenagers and the multitude of Dewdrop Faeries hiding in their clothing walked to the end of the hall towards the last cell. The only light coming from the lantern Snotlout carried with him in his left hand. Jack took up position to the right of the door, causally leaned against the opposing wall where he could see the Outcast Viking from his vantage point but it would be hard for Alvin to see him with Snotlout standing in the way, blocking the light coming from the lantern.

“Well, there he is,” the man laughed gruffly, standing up. “Looking much better than the last time I saw you.”

“You know, I could have made it off the island without your help,” Snotlout waved off arrogantly and the ex-spirit found himself smirking while the Wyldfae on his shoulders let out little chimes of giggles. He had to give the Viking teenager credit, he sure knew how to put on a show, allowing Alvin to think he had the upper hand by making him seem like he was too overconfident.

The older man let lose another bout of gruff laughter – this one in wicked amusement – and spoke with a cynical tone. “Of course you could have. I probably jumped in too soon, eh?”

“Yeah, definitely,” the Dragon Rider shot back in a sarcastic voice. However, it went right over the Outcast’s head and Jack couldn’t keep the dark chuckle contained.

“Uh, you know, boy, you and I are a lot alike,” Alvin remarked with a thoughtful look on his face.

“Oh, really? How's that?” and the brunet could tell Snotlout was offended by the comment and he knew exactly how the other teen felt. He had felt the same exact way when Pitch had likened the two together. He had felt infuriated and offended, but at the same time, he had wondered if the other Guardians had seen him in the same light. The burly Viking must felt the same way, wondering if the other Dragon Riders saw him as the Alvin of the group.

“People don't appreciate how we do things,” the Outcast continued.

Jack couldn’t keep the loud snort from coming out and stood up straight, uncrossing his arms when the two Vikings turned to look at him. “Yeah, real alike. Just because people don’t appreciate the methods, doesn’t constitute similarities between you two when you both fight for two different outcomes.”

“And who are you to talk?” Alvin asked, his eyes straining to see the Druid in the darkness.

“Someone who has had the same accusation thrown at him,” the ex-spirit answered airily as he stepped forward and into the light, a frost expression etched on his face, “and does not appreciate such a comment being directed at my friend. Now how about we get passed all this flattery and smooth-talking and get to the real reason why you wanted to speak to Snotlout.”

The former chief studied him for all of two seconds before turning his gaze back to Snotlout, effectively dismissing Jack; it would be his mistake. “You know this is wrong, don't you? Locking me up like this. I admit, I’ve done some crazy stuff, but I also saved your life, Snotlout! I didn't have to bring you back to Berk. I could have left you on that island, and I'd be a free man today. But I didn't. All I want is my island back and my tribe out from under that deranged boy’s grasp.

“If you let me out, you'll never see me again,” Alvin promised and the Druid would have given the man some thought, if not for his next words. “You owe me at least that, Snotlout.”

“Snotlout owes you nothing,” Jack snapped slamming the butt of his staff on the ground and the winds outside shook the jailhouse, trying to get in to see what had caused his anger. “So you saved his life, how many lives have you taken? Saving one life does not make up for the lives you took. If you want something from us, you’ll have to make a trade, give us something we want.”

“I can do that,” the older man assured, looking back and forth between the two teenagers. The Druid could tell the man didn’t know who to deal with, since his original plan seemed to involve manipulating Snotlout into letting him go somehow, but like usual, Jack’s presence had thrown a wrench in his plans. Now that he was offering Alvin what he wanted, the former Outcast Chief was unsure which one of them he had to deal with. “I understand completely.”

“Oh, I don’t think you do,” the brunet spoke as the Wyldfae flew off his shoulders, their magic shining brightly and forming the colored globes of lights. Lights that swarmed around them and gave the Druid an eerie appearance. Fawn even flew off of Snotlout shoulder and floated around his head, her burnt orange light shining down on the Viking below her, making the Outcast take a step back at the blatant display of power. “You won’t be making a trade with us, but with the _fae_ and they do _not_ take kindly to being crossed.”

“ _The Fae?!_ ” Alvin gulped, staring in horror at the Dewdrop Faeries. Apparently, he too had heard of the fae to some extent like the Chief of Berk.

“I see you’ve heard of them, not many Vikings have from what I’ve seen. But this makes things easier,” Jack said fighting down a grin. He had to admit, mimicking Pitch to the best of his ability definitely seemed to terrify even the toughest of Vikings, that or it was the Dewdrop Faeries. In which case, the brunet seriously wondered about the future of the Outcasts if Alvin was to return as their leader. He made it seem like they were the Sidhe or something a lot more powerful than Dewdrop Faeries were even capable of being.

A horn started blaring, one that had both Snotlout and Jack freezing in the middle of their charade and breaking character as fright crossed both of their faces. The two looked at each other even as they heard the Guards at the door abandon their posts to respond to the warning signal.

“Eh? What's that?” Alvin asked confused as the horn blared again.  

His words barely reached their ears as the two ran towards the exit to heave open the heavy doors. Vikings were running through the middle of town, many of whom were clad in armor while others were busy ushering the elderly and the young back into their huts and out of danger.

Jack was the first to spot Astrid and waved his staff at her – and with a little push of will, the crystal at the end lit up – catching her attention.

“Snotlout, Jackson, come on!” she gestured towards the direction the other Vikings were running in, her other hand gripping her axe with white knuckles.

“What? What's going on?” Snotlout demanded as the horned sounded for a third time and many of the Wyldfae zipped in to Jack’s cloak, hiding themselves in fright.

“It's Dagur! He's been spotted by the arena. Stormfly wasn’t in her stable at my house, the twins can’t find Barf and Belch, and a few of the Dragon Rider Trainees’ dragons are missing as well. We think Dagur has done something to them. _The dragons are in trouble!_ ” Astrid shouted over the noise of the chaos surrounding Berk.

“Hookfang,” the Viking whispered in disbelief and worry, eyes widening in fear and yet he could not bring himself to move even as Astrid ran ahead, joining the mass of chaos. Jack nudged the frozen brunet and Snotlout looked him, twin looks of determination blossoming in their eyes and with a nod, they too made to join the chaos.

“No, wait! I can help! Dagur hasn't come alone! You need me and I’m willing to make that trade,” Alvin’s voice echoed out from inside the jail, but it was only the last part which had them faltering.


	44. Out of Depth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, you all make my heart melt with the kindness and your love of Druid Jack (I might get a big ego with all the praise, but then I read my own work and see my grammar errors which I've overlooked and am knocked back down. XP) That, and reading the discussions going on about Jack being more powerful vs. scaring the Vikings as a harbinger of winter is amusing to me.
> 
> I have lurkers who've spoke to me! Thank you lurkers and keep lurking. Although, I feel bad that I'm the cause of your lack of sleep. Please sleep more (I'm talking to you, Isaias_Q and everyone else who hasn't sleep too)!
> 
> I stand corrected, apparently more of you sided with Jack than with Snotlout or Hiccup due to the argument two chapters ago. I acknowledge my mistake and as for compensation, I give you my longest chapter to date. Have a good read.
> 
> HeichouTheTitan: I don't care if I have to wait for you to get a new tablet, I would love to see that drawing! ❤❤❤
> 
> Mihas: I agree with you totally, Jack being at Alvin's trial wouldn't have worked for his character; hence, he wasn't there. As for what's going to happen in the remaining chapters, that would be telling~! (No Spoilers from me.)

The blaring horn had Hiccup bolting up from his otherwise restless sleep. He hadn’t even bothered changing his clothing when he’d gone to bed, too mixed up in his thoughts and he was partly glad for the oversight right now as he grabbed his shield resting by the bed and raced out of the hut. Toothless was waiting for him by the door, ear-plates twitching every which way as pupils no more than slits starred off in the distances.

“Come on, Bud!” Hiccup swung up into the Night Fury’s saddle while slinging the shield over his back all in one smooth motion. They were already hurling through the night sky when the teenager finally grabbed hold of the saddle with his hands, clutching tightly due to his lack of riding harness. He cursed at himself for not donning the article of clothing, knowing they could be going so much faster without the fear of him falling. Fortunately, seeing the mass of Vikings heading towards the Dragon Training Academy, he knew they didn’t need to go far.

Coming in close, Toothless reduced his speed while Hiccup took in the emergency and swore. Hookfang was no longer locked in his pen, but in the middle of the Academy arena. Flames covering his whole body as the Monstrous Nightmare faced off against Firefang and Fanghook. Not far from them, Stormfly and Flystorm were also circling around Barf and Belch, but they were working together to take on the Hideous Zippleback. No, the two Deadly Nadders were attacking each other as well at every giving opening.

It wasn’t just the large dragons fighting one another either, the Terrible Terrors were brawling in the arena as well, and it wasn’t just inside the Academy. On top of the chain-link doom, Torch, Skully, and Scauldy were battling each other while attempting to get in to the sealed area. It was only when Skully knocked Torch to the side, the Head of the Academy saw the root of all the chaos.

“Dragon Root!” Hiccup hissed finally understanding what had the dragons irritated. He had thought that after Fishlegs and Gobber disposed of the one found in Finn’s field, he would never have to deal with the root again. How Dagur had even gotten ahold of the bulging bulb, the auburn haired Viking would never know, but he was going to have to deal with it.

Seeing the other Dragon Riders running towards the Academy – Fishlegs on top of an unaffected Meatlug – Hiccup landed closest to them as possible without attracting the attention of the dragons on top of the arena. “Dagur put Dragon Root in the arena and somehow lured the other dragon in so they would attack each other.”

“Hiccup,” Snotlout gasped in short breaths of air, elbowing Ruffnut and Astrid out of the way to get to the front. “Listen, I need–”

“Snotlout, not now,” the Head of the Academy dismissed his cousin. Now wasn’t the time for them to get into another argument, they had some real big problems to deal with.

“It's important! I have to tell-,” the darker haired Viking insisted frantically.

“I said: Not. Now,” the Head of the Academy snapped harshly holding up his hand in an effort to silence him. He completely shut Snotlout down by turning his back on him and addressing the only other Dragon Rider currently with in possession of a dragon. “All right, Fishlegs, this is all you. Toothless and I can't go in there because he'll be affected by the root. Instead, we’ll open the gate and you and Meatlug have to fly in and get that root out of there while the others distract their dragons.”

“You hear that, girl? It's up to you and me,” Fishlegs gulped while Meatlug nodded her head eagerly and before her rider could hesitate or really think about what his mission entitled, the Gronckle was heading for the entrance of the Academy whilst the rest of the riders followed on foot.

Toothless easily overtook the Gronckle as he flew towards the opening mechanism but lagged when Hiccup pulled back at the sight of the Dragon Trainees running their way. Before they could get to close Bucket appeared and pulled a struggling Terrorthi into his arms while Typhan hauled the two boys away by the back of their tunics. He didn’t need to hear what they were yelling to know the young children wanted to help – Terrorthi most of all since Neðan wouldn’t be affected by the Dragon Root – but it wasn’t safe for them to be out here.

Knowing the Dragon Trainees were in safe hands, Hiccup turned back to his part of the plan and yanked the lever. The arena’s gate began opening but not all the way. Just enough for the Gronckle and her rider to fly in with the other Dragon Riders following on foot. Working as one, they each moved in front of their respected dragon partners and began to talk them down in calming tones. The three large dragons battled above their heads form the outside of the cage made for a few problems.

Astrid had to dodged out of the way of Torch’s long tail flickering through the chain-link doom or risk being thrown. Without the calming effect of her rider’s presence, Stormfly shrieked out, shooting a volley of spine shots as Belch emitting a large cloud of gas. The gas was ignited Hookfang flaming up, producing a relatively small explosion that lighting it on fire.  

Fishlegs stood at the entrance petrified. The memory of his first day entering the arena for Dragon Killing lesson flashing through his mind. It was like the dragons were the same mindless killing beasts they had been while under the Red Death’s control.

Astrid flung herself between the two Deadly Nadders when things began to escalate even more. “Stormfly, no! Leave Flystorm alone.”

For a split second, it looked like the Deadly Nadder recognized her but then Flystorm made a move towards the Dragon Root and she snapped. Firing off a ball of fire which would have hit Astrid if she didn’t roll out of the way, Stormfly charged at the other Deadly Nadder. While the blast of magnesium fire didn’t roast the shieldmaiden to a crisp, it did, however, hit Flystorm, who used his own wing as a shield to protect himself. He wasn’t prepared for the full on tackle from the blue dragon. Snotlout was having even less success as he and Fawn worked to calm down three Monstrous Nightmares while dodging couldn’t flames being thrown their way.

“This was a bad idea!” Ruffnut and Tuffnut screamed together as they ran out from a cloud of Barf’s gas. They didn’t get far and were thrown clear across the arena when Belch ignited the miasma. This left an opening for Meatlug to spew a vat of lava around the Dragon Root to scare the Terrible Terrors away and make a grab the root.

“Got it!” Fishlegs cried at their success, the Gronckle hurtling towards the exit with the root in her mouth. “Come on, girl. We're gonna make it!”

Before they could fly through, the gate slammed down with a deafening crash. It was only thanks to Snotlout and Hookfang’s earlier impromptu lesson on abrupt stopping, he was able to stop Meatlug in time to avoid slamming into the gate himself. Better yet, he hadn’t fallen off. This also meant they were all trapped inside the arena with a bunch of crazy dragons with the Dragon Root causing all of the chaos.

Fearful green eyes darted up, to ask Hiccup what was the big idea of closing the gate when he came face-to-face-to-face with said reason: two Berserkers.

“Uh oh,” Fishlegs gulped a high pitch whine emanating from his throat, one which dissipated when he saw Toothless land behind the two Berserkers, teeth bared and ready to fight. The only thing holding the Night Fury back was his rider.

“Open that door right now or-,” Hiccup demanded, only he was interrupted before he could complete his threat by the bane of his existence, Dagur himself.

“Or what?” the Berserker chief asked, and Fishlegs had to crane his neck to see Dagur with a bunch of his men positioned on the stands surrounding the Academy’s chain-link dome, all of them holding crossbows aim directly at the Night Fury and his rider.

“Dagur, what do you want?” Hiccup growled, eyes darting around as more and more of the deranged Viking’s men came out of hiding and pointing more weapons in his direction.

“What I've always wanted; the Night Fury!” Dagur demanded, a demented smirk on his face. “Hand him over, and we leave peacefully. That's your choice… your dragon or your friends…

“Isn't this exciting?” the deranged Viking cheered insanely, whirling around on his feet and gesturing towards the arena and back at Hiccup. “What will he choose, ladies and gentlemen?”

He could hear the roaring of the dragons in the arena and the huffs and cries of his friends as the fought to dodge their attacks. However, he couldn’t take his eyes off of Dagur for one moment; there was no telling what the man would do. Hiccup could hear each of them yelling out, calling for help from one another. Yet he knew none of them would be able to hold out much longer. Hiccup had to make a choice and quick.

“So, Hiccup, what's your answer?” Dagur didn’t taunted him, but asked in such a way that it truly frighten the auburn haired Viking because the Berserker already knew his answer.

“The answer is… we run you through and open the gate ourselves,” the Chief of Berk shouted as the Viking of the Hairy Hooligans Tribe descended from all directions, armed to the teeth with weapons and shields. Commander Huffnut came in from the opposite direction as the chief while Jackson and Finn lead the third side, on the cliffs above the arena, archers at the ready.

With a battle cry from Stoick, the Hairy Hooligan Tribe broke from their positions and attack. The Berserkers were forced to turn their weapons from Toothless and fired or risk being impaled, yet not a single bolt hit as a gust of wind blew in from the ocean. It was an all-out melee, Berk archers keeping those on the outskirts at bay while those on the ground fought head on. It was all chaotic and hard to follow.

The somewhat more intelligent members of Dagur’s tribe hadn’t taken their weapons off of the Night Fury in an attempt to incapacitate them, permanently. However, they weren’t counting on Hiccup to deflected the bolts with his shield. Toothless retaliated with two plasma blasts, taking out the two Berserkers in front of the Academy gate with the intent on freeing the rest of the dragons. Before the Night Fury and his rider could reach the gate, they were assaulted on all sides by bolts and spears and were forced into the air to escape.

Jackson, having witnessed his plight and not being much used to the archers, didn’t hesitate to jumped from the cliffs. Finn’s shout as he dove down was obscured by the winds whipping around him, slowing his decent to the point he was unharmed when he landed on Torch’s back and skid down the Typhoomerang’s wing, before falling the few feet to the ground. It was a wonder Torch didn’t turn on him in his frenzied state. Still, the Druid had made it to the lever and pull it back.

The gate slowly creaked opened only to slam shut once more when one of the downed Berserkers pulled himself to his feet and cut through the chain controlling the opening mechanism with his sword. It would have taken Jackson’s head off too, if the brunet hadn’t duck and roll to the side in the nick of time. Toothless took care of the threat, sending a high power plasma blast at the man which hit dead on, sending him fly back and crash into the Academy’s wall. He didn’t get back up and Hiccup could see a faint trail of smoke coming from the man’s abdomen.

Stoick must have witnessed the byplay, for he came out of the chaotic fray in time to grab hold of the sliced chain and with the strength of his massive build, pulled the chain. Ever so slowly, the gate inched opened while Jackson keep a few Berserkers from stabbing Stoick in the back. To preoccupied with fighting the Dagur’s men off neither the Druid nor any of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe saw Savage climbing the Academy’s wall in preparation of ambushing the redhead Haddock from above.

However, an Outcast had.

“Stoick! Duck,” Alvin shouted, shoving four of Berserkers, who had been coming up behind Jackson, aside and used a fifth as a pedestal to launch his giant mass into the air and at Savage. The former Outcast chief’s whole body became his weapon as he collided with his once second-in-command’s smaller form. The two went tumbling down, Alvin landing on top and knocking the man out with the combined force of his weight and the impact.

“ _You!_ ” Dagur angry shouted penetrated the air. “You’re supposed to be dead! I killed you myself!”

“Me,” the dark haired man answered back with an unretentive grin. “Don't look so surprised. I don't go down so easily.”

“Alvin!” Stoick pulled himself up from where he had fallen in his attempt to escape Savage’s ambush. The chief retrieved Savage’s lost blade and with no thought about it, tossed the weapon to the Betrayer of Berk which Alvin easily caught by the hilt. Grunting at the impact, the traitor stared down at the weapon incredulously before looking over at his once friend. “Well, don't just stand there!”

The Betrayer of Berk grinned and shoved the blade’s hilt back, making contact with one of his former underlings and sending the man tumbling to the ground. With one last nod to Stoick, he joined the fray, taking out as many Berserkers as he could while rendering his own men unconscious so he could deal with them latter. And he would deal with them.

Stoick, on the other hand, grabbed hold of the chain once more and began pulling at the links a stretch at a time in an attempt to open the gate for a second time. This time, with Alvin’s help keeping the enemy at bay and Jackson knocking out the few stragglers who managed to get passed the enraged Outcast chief, he succeeded.

When there was enough room for Toothless to squeeze through, the dragon dove between the narrow gap and shot a few low powered blasts at the other dragons. They quickly disengaged from chasing Meatlug and Fishlegs around the area for the Dragon Root the Gronckle somehow had managed to hang on to despite everything else going on and turned their attention towards the Night Fury instead.

“Fishlegs, this way! We'll cover you!” the Head of the Dragon Academy called out as they flew passed the Boulder-class dragon and worked to disorient the others, keeping them back.

“Come on, girl, you can do this!” Fishlegs encouraged his weary dragon as they flew straight out the fully opened exit. However, in his haste and combined with Meatlug’s fatigue, he rammed straight into the chief as they flew out of the Academy. The impacted knocked the giant man down, causing him to let go of the chain, but the blond Viking didn’t stop. They couldn’t stop now, they had to get the Dragon Root well away from the affected dragons. Instead, he through an apology over his shoulder and head straight out to sea. “Ahh unh! Sorry, chief!”

As the gate fell closed for the umpteenth time, Toothless just barely scrapping under the points of the wrought iron gate’s tip as he followed Meatlug out. The Night Fury and his rider were the only ones able to escape before the others were trapped inside of the Academy once again.

Not that any of the Dragon Riders noticed, they were too preoccupied with coaxing the agitated the dragons back into their right mind. Each rider tentatively inched closer to their respective mounts and when the dragons didn’t try to kill them as they had been doing just moments ago, the young teenagers threw themselves at their dragons. Hugging the huge reptiles for all they were worth while examining them for injuries they might have sustained during the Dragon Root induced frenzy state. Torch cooed down at them.

Hiccup watched in relief as their dragons returned back to normal and shook his head when Skully joined in with Torch’s cooing.

“Hiccup!” Gobber screamed brought the Viking’s attention back to the battle as he turned Toothless to fly out from the slopped incline of the Academy entrance, up to where the fighting seemed to have subsided. The little bit of relief he had felt at the dragons being back in their right mind dissipated when he saw Dagur with two of his men surrounding the bound form of his father. The sword held to Stoick’s throat was wielded by the Berserker chief himself as the rest of his underlings retreated to their longboats.

“Dad!” Hiccup shouted, worry filled his voice as his grip tightened on the leather of the Night Fury’s saddle.

“Nobody make a move,” Dagur demanded, chuckling maniacally as he starred straight at his greatest threats: Toothless and his rider.

“Dagur,” Alvin growled out as the Outcast took a step towards the deranged Viking. He halted when the sword tip was pushed further into Stoick’s throat, yet the Berserker never took his eyes off the vivid green eyes glaring daggers at him.

Dagur was not only compelled to look away from Hiccup but remove his weapon from the Chief of Berk’s throat when he was forced to duck in an effort to avoid getting brained by the Druid’s staff. The Berserker behind his chief wasn’t so lucky and was knocked out. Jackson wasn’t deterred by his failure as he used his momentum to spin around and brought up his foot. Dagur blocked the spin kick with his forearm and used his other arm to swing his sword at the brunet.

Jackson disengaged, doing a backflip to dodge the weapon. He landed on his feet and brought up his staff in front of his chest just in time to block Dagur’s kick. His heels dug into the soil from the force behind the attack as the brunet was pushed back. Holding the positions for a moment, the Druid then pivoted on his left foot, spinning out of the way and unbalancing the Berserker. Bringing down his staff with all the force he had, Jackson aimed for the deranged Viking’s side.

The staff caught Dagur in the side, but Jackson wasn’t prepared for the redhead to snag the hook with the crook of his elbow and wrap his arm around the length to get a better grip on the gnarled piece of wood. Jackson tensed when the deranged Viking grinned at him but didn’t let go of his staff. Instead, he shoved his end forward and twisted it, twisting Dagur’s hand who gave out a hiss of pain, but made no effort to let go.

“Laddie! Watch out!” Finn yelled in warning, causing the Druid to turn. However, he never got the chance to face his attacker as the Berserker creeping up on him smashed Jackson on the side of the head with a large meaty fist. The slender teenager immediately crumpled to the ground, unmoving.

“I said, nobody make a move but you now all get the picture as to why. We'll be leaving now, and if I see one dragon following us, rider or not, you're gonna be looking for a new chief” Dagur grunted angrily, turning back to face the members of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe and returning his sword’s tip to Stoick’s throat once more. The Chief of Berk never flinched.

Dagur appeared to be displeased with the lack of response yet with a causal shrug, he pushed it aside. The deranged Viking threw his sword to the Berserker who had managed to knockout Jackson and gestured for him take Stoick to their boats. Savage made a move to follow after the group, but Dagur whipped his hand out and slammed the Druid’s staff into the man’s gut. A wheeze left the winded man, not that the redhead noticed. Instead he spun the staff around and pointed it at the brunet’s down form and glared at Savage.

It took a moment for the Outcast Viking to comprehend what the Berserker chief wanted and when he didn’t move fast enough, he ended up with a bludgeon to the head with the staff. Once he understood what was expected of him, Savage hurriedly grabbed Jackson and flung him over his shoulders before jogging to catch up to the other fleeing Berserkers and Outcasts. Dagur grinned wildly and twirled the Druid’s staff lazily in his hand.

“We'll be in touch!” the deranged Viking cheered and grabbed both ends of the staff in each hand, bringing it over his raised knee. The staff snapped clean in two with a deafening crack. Then, as if he didn’t have any care in the world, he threw the two pieces to the ground which skidded to a stop in front of Toothless. The Night Fury reacted by lowering himself closer to the ground and growling ferociously. “Bye-bye”

Once they were out of sight, Hiccup rounding on the tribe’s troops, a plan already forming in his mind. “Okay, we take the South pass, cut them off at the beach, and smash their boats before they even-”

“Don't do it, boy,” Alvin step up, cutting off anything else the Dragon Rider had to say. “You back a man like that into a corner; you may not like the outcome.”

“Especially when that man travels with a hundred-ship armada,” Gobber concurred, hobbling over to stand near the former Outcast Chief. Yet there was an obvious amount of space the blacksmith purposely kept between himself and Alvin.

“But I have to save them!” the Head of the Dragon Academy argued, nails biting into the leather of Toothless’s saddle. He felt one of the nails break but he paid it no heed.

Alvin shook his head negatively. “Dagur is not gonna hurt either of them, yet. They are not what he wants.”

“He's right,” Finn came up to stand behind his mentor, laying his hand on the blacksmith’s shoulder. Gobber eased to an extent under the hunter’s touch but he couldn’t fully relaxed. Their chief – his best friend – and his charge had been taken.

“You want me to trust him?” Hiccup gestured wildly to the Outcast.

“If there's one thing Alvin knows, Hiccup, it's treachery,” the Guard Commander stated in her professional opinion, coming to stand on Alvin’s other side. Her right hand hanging close to her side, clutching a blood soaked blade.

Hiccup looked from one member of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe to the next. Seeing they all had the same hard expressions and knowing that Gobber and Huffnut were a part of his father’s council, the chief’s son sighed and relented. Giving a brisk nod to the three Vikings, the Berk Guard Commander gave him a small bow before turning back towards the Guard – giving one final meaningful look at Alvin – and the other Viking who had gathered to protect their home.

“Alright Vikings!” she shouted addressing the mass as a whole. “Let’s clean this place up! If there is blood on you and it’s not your own, get to capturing any stragglers and throw them into the jailhouse. If you’re wearing your own blood, grab someone wearing more of their own blood than you are and head on over to the Great Hall to be treated.” When no one moved, she growled out and the cool headed shieldmaiden exploded. “What are you waiting for? _GET MOVING!_ ”

“Yes Commander!” the masses yelled out and scurried to comply.

“And someone get my dragon out of there,” Huffnut shouted, pointing to the sealed Academy gates where the remaining of the Dragon Riders and the dragons were still trapped.

Finn walked forward and grabbed hold of Alvin’s upper arm, the two glared at each other before the Hofferson lead the man away. Probably to be put back into the cell he had been occupying before.

Vivid green eyes watched as everyone ran about and looked out towards the open ocean. Toothless following his longing gaze as the wind picked up and whirled around Hiccup. Lightning stuck in the distance, thundering following a few second latter. A hand on his shoulder had the chief’s son turning to see Astrid with the twins and Snotlout behind her all looking at him with a mixture of determination and sympathy.

“What do you want us to do?” she asked, her hand falling to her side as she took a step back.

Hiccup looked out to the ocean once more before dismounting Toothless – something he didn’t want to do, since it gave him a sense of comfort and reassurance, but it didn’t feel right to look down at his friends either – and observed his Dragon Riders. Astrid had a few cuts, most likely from a few spin shots, and her hair was a mess. The cloth bracers on Ruffnut’s left arm were scorched off and the skin beneath was burned and blistering. There was a large slash in Tuffnut’s right thigh and blood was flowing down his leg, being soaked up by his pants and staining the fabric. Meanwhile, his cousin was favoring his left leg and discreetly holding his ribs, however, they were all standing ready and willing to do whatever their leader ordered.

“We needed to regroup,” the Head of the Academy finally stated, looking them all over. “Astrid, I need you to provide Commander Huffnut any assistance she requires. Start by getting her some bandages for her arms. Ruff, Tuff, go with her and provide Gothi any help she needed. Snotlout, help Finn keep an eye on Alvin, I don’t want him going anywhere.”

“Right,” the shieldmaiden nodded, she didn’t even have to grab the back of either of the twins’ vest to get them moving. They were already mounting Barf and Belch before she could get to Stormfly.

“Got it,” Snotlout grunted, grabbing Hookfang’s horn and pulling himself up onto the Monstrous Nightmare’s saddle. The two were already in the sky when Meatlug flew back to Berk. The Dragon Root nowhere in sight. Taking one look around the battle field around the Academy, the Gronckle rider had the Boulder-class dragon landing near Toothless.

Fishlegs looked around as Vikings hustles about. “What did I miss?”

“I’ll fill him in,” Gobber said, using his hook to grab hold of the Gronckle’s saddle and pulled the two with him. “Come on Fishlegs, you’re going to help me make sure Grump and Neðan protected the village.”

Hiccup nodded his head, before a through struck him. “Also set up a patrol schedule for Dragon Riders to be on the lookout for any lingering Berserker boats or the Screaming Death.”

“Will do. But you’ll need to get to the Great Hall soon, those who weren’t here will be demanding an explanation,” the blacksmith grunted, waving his free hand about.

“I’ll head over there once we’re done here,” the chief’s son replied as his mentor pulled a confused Fishlegs and Meatlug away, giving him some time to stop and think.

Hiccup stood there for a long moment, before going over to the closest corpse. The man was lying face down and the Dragon Rider had to kneel down in an attempted to roll the body over on his back. He struggled with getting the man to turn but a prod from the Night Fury’s accomplished what he could not.

He didn’t recoil at the sight of blood coming from the stump of an arm which had been lying below the man. Neither did he shed a tear when he caught the unseeing eyes staring blankly into the sky. He knew this man, Liótr, he was a yak farmer and was at the forge a few days ago to order a courtship gift; an axe with a crest engraved in the middle. Hiccup had made the axe, not having anything else to do at the time, and it was waiting for Jackson to get back to add the bindings around the handle. However, it would seem Liótr would never get the chance to pick it up and give it to his beloved.

Reaching out, the auburn haired teen closed the unseeing eyes of Liótr and whispered a small pray. Maybe one day, he would meet his beloved again in the Halls of Valhalla. Standing up, Hiccup made his way over to another downed warrior with Toothless by his side. They continued on like that for some time, the chief’s son quickly loosing track of time, finding more dead than injured. He only stopped when Astrid had come up to him and handed him a flagon of water with instructions from Huffnut for both of them to get to the Great Hall.

He didn’t even remember the flight over but the next thing he was aware of was walking through the massive doors of the Great Hall. The people closest to him were moaning and groaning as Gothi made her way from the most sever patient to the next. He also spotted Myror – Gothi’s young brother, who was slightly taller than his sister with dark hair and brown eyes – helping those with smaller wounds, bandaging them up while Terrorthi ran between getting him more salves and bandages while Gustav and Snuffnut helped Norbert pass out bowls of gruel.

Further in the Great Hall, the more able bodies and the noncombatant villagers formed a semicircle around Gobber. If Hiccup had thought things had looked bad when they brought Alvin in, this was worse. Much worse. Their shouting had increased in volume and the tension in the air was thick and heavy. The blacksmith was attempting to keep the roars and shouts from the crowd down but to no avail and without the chief, things would be getting worse.

“We want answers!”

“Tell us the truth!”

“What is going on?”

“Everyone settle down!” Gobber yelled out yet no one listened to the blacksmith.

Huffnut, who had seen them entered, had walked through the crowd that parted for her without needing any encouragement and retrieved Hiccup, taking him and Astrid up to the front of the crowd to stand beside his mentor. He was surprised to find the other Dragon Riders already off to the side while behind them were the older Dragon Rider Trainees stood in a line. Astrid left his side and took her took her place next to Snotlout while Toothless stayed by his side.

Nodding his head in gratitude to the Guard Commander, Gobber whistled loudly, finally silencing the crowd. “Hiccup will answer all your questions.”

“Why him?” Spitelout yelled out, having been near the front of the crowd with the rest of the chief’s council who weren’t currently injured.

“He's the acting chief. That's why,” the blacksmith snapped back, looking pointedly at the chief’s brother-in-law. From the looks of it, they seemed to have already had a conversation about who would be acting chief and Spitelout had not come out on the winning side. Seeing the man shrink in submission, Gobber turned towards Hiccup and whispered discreetly to the young teen. “They're all yours”.

“Right,” Hiccup responded absentmindedly as his mentor slowly hobbled over to stand by Finn and the rest of the Dragon Rider Trainees and he had to face dozens of angry and scarred Vikings twice his age and three times his sizing looking to him for answers all by himself.

“What are we gonna do?”

“Where's Stoick?”

Taking a deep breath, the chief’s son did what his father had done so many times before and held up his hands to chest height. He was surprised when they quieted down, not expecting the gesture to work. Still, he cleared his throat and steeled himself for what to come.

“Good questions,” Hiccup began, having no other starting point to work off of. “Um, as you all know, Berk is no stranger to hard times. But the best thing is to-”

“Take arms!”

“Man the catapults!”

He didn’t even get to make it through a whole sentence before the crowd had started up again. Yelling out their desires and completely ignoring the Dragon Rider, which he wasn’t surprised at, but wished they would all shut up. He didn’t know how his father handled them day in and day out, and dearly wished for his guidance at a time like this.

“Are we really going to let this fishbone lead us?” one of the Vikings chimed in and although it wasn’t Spitelout, Hiccup had a felling it was one of the man’s supporters.

“He’s a hiccup!”

“We can’t take him seriously!”

“ _SILENCE!_ ”

The whole crowd stilled, even those who were wounded and in great pain fell silent for a moment. All looking about for the one who had spoken, their eyes were drawn upwards to the sound of soft chimes as dozens upon dozens of multicolored orbs of lights descended from above. Whispers of awe and fear weaved through the crowd as the glowing globes came to conglomerate around Hiccup and the other Dragon Riders and along with the younger trainees in the crowd. Some of them even came to rest upon the Dragon Riders shoulders.

However, it was one icy blue globe which came to a stop a few inches to Hiccup’s right that gathered everyone’s attention. “Listen to thy Dragon Master, for our allegiance and faith lies with him.”

“You can talk?” Hiccup hiss out under his breath. He never heard any of the Wyldfae speak save for the chimes and rings they emitted.

“We have yet to master thy tongue; yet, your Druid has taught us adequately enough,” Periwinkle answered, glowing brighter as her voice became louder for the whole crowd to hear. “Your Druid Emissary has convinced us you are to be trusted and are not the Prosecutors of Magic as we were led to believe. Because of your actions to save and work with the Magical Creatures of Fire to better this isle and your younglings offers of suitable trade, we Wyldfae have agreed to form a provisional alliance with thee as a show of our good faith, does thy Dragon Master, ally of the Night Fury, accept?”

Toothless discreetly whacked Hiccup’s good leg with his tail and made a gurgling noise which immediately snapped him out of his stunned state. Remembering Jackson’s ramblings about the fae, he bowed to the tiny faerie.

“I agree to a provisional alliance with thee, Periwinkle of the Wyldfae,” the chief’s son spoke in the formally tone his father had starting teaching him since before the time he could speak.

“So motte it be,” Periwinkle bowing back to the auburn haired teen as the other Wyldfae chimed in, a mixture of tinkering and words filling the air as all the faeries glowed brighter.

“So motte it be,” Hiccup echoed and he was surprised when the Dragon Riders and the trainees echoed the words after him. There was a slight tug at him, as if something was pulling him from the inside before the sensation finished and he was facing a crowd of Vikings silenced by their awe. In the very back, he could see both Gothi and Myror, gazing up at him in respect and felt like he had accomplished something they had only dreamed to achieve.

“What do you want us to do, Hiccup?” Gobber asked, walking up to stand next to him and no one contradicted him.

Looking around, the chief’s son thought back to Liótr and faced the silent crowd with Periwinkle hovering to one side and Toothless on the other. “Tonight, we honor our dead and give them the proper send off to Valhalla they deserve. Tomorrow night, we get our chief back.”

The crowd erupted into cheers as Hiccup made his way through the crowd who parted ways for him, the Dragon Riders and the Wyldfae following behind him. Once they were outside, the Head of the Dragon Academy instructed them to help with the funeral pyres and get some sleep. There was some hesitation but they all agreed in the end and headed out to gather wood for the abundant of pyres needed that night. The Wyldfae, under Periwinkle’s instructions, split up to help with the funerals and some forced Dragon Riders to rest.

Astrid stayed behind along with a dark eyed fae – Nyx if Hiccup remembered correctly – who had determined it was her duty to look after the shieldmaiden. Unlike the other Wyldfae, the dark hair, fair skinned Dewdrop Faerie’s whole body was clothed from head to toe in what looked like some type of brown leather uniform with a green tree crest printed across her chest and black shirt underneath that matched her boots. In her tiny hands she held a small quill as if it were a dangerous weapon.

The shieldmaiden waited until the others were out of ear shot before bluntly stating her view, the molten orange orb by her shoulder bobbing up and down in agreement. “We’re not going to ambush Dagur, I know we’re not, because I know you Hiccup, so what is the real plan?”

Hiccup gave a wary smile, letting his worry and fear eat away at his features. “I’ll tell you when I know myself. Go home, Astrid, and make sure your family’s alright.”

“Only if you get some rest too,” the Deadly Nadder rider shot back.

“Do not fear, Shieldmaiden, I shall make sure thy Dragon Master rests before the sunrises,” Periwinkle guaranteed her which appeared to work as those blue eyes of hers contemplated him for a moment before Astrid was bidding him farewell. A pointed look from the little fae had him heading off towards his hut or risk making a liar out of Periwinkle and Hiccup did not want to anger the little Dewdrop Faerie.

The chief’s son was expecting to enter a cold dark hut, absent of life since his father usually kept the hearth going. Yet, when he opened the door to his home, a flood of warmth washed out and enveloped the dragon and his rider. Light poured out from the blazing hearth as clattering could be heard from further within. Green eyes blinked a few times when he found Gobber standing by the fire, stirring a huge pot of something in the cauldron Jackson favored when cooking.

Hiccup closed the door behind them as he made his way over to his mentor who had yet to take notice of his arrival. When he passed by the table green eyes were drawn to his father’s favorite axe innocently resting on the massive chair. Changing course, he grabbed hold of the axe’s hilt having to use both hands to pick the weapon up while he knew his father only had to use one hand. A bowl was set down on the table next to him and he in turned sat the axe back down.

“You know, Hiccup, there's nothing easy about chiefing,” Gobber said a moment after the acting chief let out a heavy sigh and sat in his own chair. “You should've seen Stoick when he first took over. He was like a newborn yak trying to find his feet.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Hiccup mumbled watching the blacksmith hobbled back around the table to grab a large cod and threw it to Toothless. The Night Fury lunged up and grabbing the fish out of the air, but he didn’t immediately eat it. Instead, the dragon set it down and pushed the fish around lazily with his nose before laying down and starring out longingly. “Gobber, I saw Snotlout tonight, he was one step away from shoving me aside and taking over if it hadn’t been for Periwinkle and the rest of the Wyldfae stepped in.”

It was his mentor’s turn to sigh loudly as he watched Hiccup. Just like the dragon, the Dragon Rider was also listlessly pushing his food around in his bowl using a spoon before setting the utensil to the side and resting his head on his fisted hand. Periwinkle hovering worriedly over his head, yet she made no move to comfort him. Gobber shook his head and sighed again, sending a silent prayer to Odin before walking over and grabbing the back of the teen’s chair with his hook. He proceeded to yank the chair out and around with Hiccup still in it so the teenager was facing him.

“It's true. In fact, there were some in this town that didn't think Stoick had it in him. Alvin, for one. He wouldn't shut up about it,” the blacksmith explained, blue eyes holding on to vivid green orbs despite his apprentice’s best efforts to look away. “Hiccup, being chief doesn't mean everyone's going to agree with you. Sometimes you have to deal with the Alvins and Snotlouts of the world.”

“I feel like that's all I do,” Hiccup slumped back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. Green eyes finally broke eye contact, diverting down and to the side.

Gobber took a stepped back, both literal and metaphorical, and tried a different tactic. “They were best friends, you know.”

“Who?” the teenager asked disinterested but went along with the conversation, not even bothering to look up.

“Alvin and Stoick. They were inseparable since birth,” auburn hair flew up as green eyes snapped to attention.

“So what happened? What… changed?” Hiccup pushed himself up in the chair in order to sit upright.

The blacksmith didn’t appear as if he was going to say anything more, but as a wretched look crossed his face, the blond Viking forced himself to answer. “Everything.”

He wanted to ask what his mentor meant, want had caused the rift between his father and the Outcast but he wasn’t given the chance. Toothless’s head shot up as the Night Fury’s ear-plates began twitch wildly before the door burst opened. Fishlegs didn’t even stop to close the door as he ran straight towards the Head of the Academy but it was the bright yellow light which reached him first.

The dark skinned Dewdrop Faerie with a yellow flower for a dress hit his nose, unable to stop in time. Her black hair, which had been rounded up in an up-do, fell down in tiny little braids as brown eyes blinked rapidly as little chimes left the little fae. Apparently, Iridessa wasn’t one of the Wyldfae who had learned to speak their language, luckily Fishlegs was.

“Hiccup! Hiccup! Hiccup!” the Gronckle rider had to stop in the middle of the room, leaning over panting as he tried to catch his breath but it didn’t keep him from trying to give his message. “Screaming! … Coming! … Oh.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,” Hiccup said moving around Iridessa to get to the heavyset Viking’s side as he fell to his knees in a quivering mess. Patting Fishlegs on the shoulder, the acting chief attempted to calm his friend down. “Take a breath there, Fishlegs.”

“I was on patrol with Meatlug,” the blond Viking teen spoke after taking a deep breath and pushed himself back onto his feet. Though Hiccup wasn’t prepared for the heavier Dragon Rider to throw himself at him and grab him by the shoulders, fingers digging into the green fabric of his shirt. “The Screaming Death, we saw it. It's eating its way to Berk.”

The Head of the Dragon Training Academy didn’t remember freeing himself from Fishlegs’s grip but he did have a destination in mind as he sprinted out of the hut. Not a lot could be seen in the dark sky, which had him guessing it would be around the middle of the night, yet his feet knew the village better than he thought and he didn’t slip once as he reached the cliffs overlooking the ocean. Toothless was right next to him, releasing a giant earsplitting roar while his ear-plates moved about agitatedly, using his echolocation to search for any signs of the Screaming Death.

“How much time do we have?” Hiccup asked when Fishlegs came jogging up to stand on his other side yet he never took his eyes off of the darken ocean he could only hear lapping at the rocks below.

“Not much. It was just off Dragon Island when we saw it,” the Gronckle rider answered as two orbs of light – one yellow, the other icy-blue – circled around the two riders. A screech had their heads shooting up to the night sky to locate Stormfly’s silhouette gliding down towards them. The Deadly Nadder landing just a few feet off, yet Astrid was already out of the saddle before Stormfly landed.

The shieldmaiden’s feet had barely hit the ground before she was making a beeline towards them with a molten orange glow guiding her way. All of which happened in only a matter of moments which didn’t give Hiccup any time to speak up as large scroll was shoved into his hand. Astrid’s own hands shaking slightly, the only indication betraying her frayed nerves of her otherwise composed demeanor.

“This came for you,” the Deadly Nadder informed him even as he started to untie the leather cord keeping the scroll rolled tight. “It's from Dagur.”

Hiccup momentarily stilled before continuing to unroll the scroll, grumbling under his breath sarcastically. “And the hits just keep on coming.”

“Well, what does it say?” Astrid prompted despite her leader had just started to read the contents within, using the light from the three fae to read with. Granted, with green eyes zipping across the page, he was able to answer her.

“We have until tonight to deliver Toothless, or my father will-,” Hiccup abruptly stopped, crumbling the scroll up and throwing it with all his might up. He didn’t even need to tell Toothless to destroy the offending scroll as a plasma blast had already incinerated it.

“It's a trap, you know that,” the shieldmaiden made an effort to calm his raging emotions down, Nyx chiming in her agreement. “If we fly anywhere near Outcast Island-”

Hiccup didn’t let her finish; he already knew what she was going to say but it wasn’t anything he wanted to hear. “Okay, listen, you guys get Snotlout and the twins. You tell them to be ready for the Screaming Death.”

“What about your father?”

“I'll handle that,” the Night Fury rider answered Astrid, a determined note to his voice.

* * *

As the night began to give way to dawn, Hiccup stood on the cliffs of Berk overlooking the ocean. Green eyes fixated in the direction Outcast Island laid far out of reach of his sight, but he knew it was there. Toothless stood at his side with Periwinkle resting on his head and growled. A sediment the Wyldfae echoed with an angry chime of her own and a slur she could not have learned from Jackson muttered under her breath.

“Don't worry, Dad,” Hiccup spoke with an unwavering resolve and edge to his voice which hadn’t ever been there before. “We're gonna get both you back, no matter what it takes. You and Jackson will come home.”

Toothless growled, before letting out a deafening roar which was picked up by the howling winds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Dagur kidnaps Jackson...and that's how I'm leaving it for now...(going to go hide where readers won't find me. Siberia maybe...?)
> 
> Just be glad I didn't end the chapter right after Dagur got away. I was really tempted to leave it there, but continued on.


	45. Out of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, had this finished by Friday, but couldn't get to the coffee shop for the Wi-Fi until today.
> 
> Misdirect is my friend! While you were all searching for me in Siberia, I was sipping piña colada in the Bahamas (I wish). XP
> 
> HearHearHear: I'm not about to give out spoilers on Jack's staff. So, not telling~!
> 
> ConfessedGeek: You ruined the surprise, but since you asked nicely, I will reveal that I have an outline - not all the way drafted - for the Race to the Edge episodes 'Have Dragon Will Travel' since I don't know many episodes after that now I don't have Netflix. That and I wanted to write Heather into my world. It will be two chapters.

Stoick surveyed his surrounding from his place tied to the mast of the Berserker flagship for all Berserkers to bore witness to his humiliation. He had heard countless jeers and taunts as the Berserkers fell back yet not once did the Chief of Berk grace them with a response. They had lost after all; they were the ones retreating while his tribe was the one to come out vicious. It was only because Dagur took the coward’s way out he was here.

However, his positive outlook had rapidly deteriorated when he caught sight of Savage bring Jackson aboard right before they shoved off. Stoick tried to keep an eye on the boy, yet the former Outcast had taken him down into the ship’s cabin and he hadn’t seen the unconscious boy since. The chief counted his blessing he hadn’t seen Dagur as they shoved off and sailed out. He had hoped the Outcast Vikings – who mainly made up the men aboard the ship – had abandoned the deranged Berserker, but he had no real way of confirming the assumption.

All he could do was stand there and mark their passage out to sea by the familiar sea stacks they passed by. When that was no longer an available option, he marked the distance by the outlying islands. By his calculations, they were half way to Outcast Island when another longboat pulled up alongside the flagship and Dagur jumped the distances between the two ships, shattering any hope he had of the Berserker chief’s demise to pieces.

The deranged Viking landed on the ledge of the flagship and took a step down on to the deck as if it was nothing. Savage immediately ran up to the young man and bowed lowly to him, resulting in the sniveling rat getting kicked in the face. The Outcast went down and Dagur casually observed the deck of his flagship as if he hadn’t done a thing wrong. Upon spotting Stoick tied to the mast, a manically grinned graced the demented Viking’s face.

“I trust you're finding your accommodations adequate?” Dagur asked waltzing over to the bound Viking. A concerned look crossed his face as he inspected the Chief of Berk’s treatment at his men’s hands. “Gosh, those ropes look awfully tight.”

He grabbed a former Outcast passing by and threw the man towards the massive man. The Outcast stumbled and glanced back at the deranged Viking with wide eyes, not understanding what he was supposed to do. A growing look of annoyance on Dagur’s face had the Viking petrified to the spot and it looked like Stoick was about to be witnessed to a homicide other than his own.

His eyes were spared when Savage staggered to the man’s rescue, holding his bleeding nose with one hand while using the other hand to gesture wildly about. Mimicking to the Viking to tighten the ropes which had the Outcast frantically nodded his head and rushing to tighten the roped around their captive. A grunt of pain was forced out of the older chief’s lips, which had the Berserkers’ chief grinning madly.

“Don't go getting too cozy, Stoick. Look at it this way-” the redhead strolled around the mast, disappearing from Stoick’s sight, “-by sundown tomorrow, you'll either be back on Berk… or…. at the bottom of the ocean. It's really up to Hiccup.” Dagur popped around the other side, looking disenchanted. “Oof. Wow, can't feel too good about that. Savage, deliver this ultimatum to Berk.”

The deranged Viking pulled a scroll out from his pouch and handed it to Savage, shoving the man towards one of the small boats. Four Berserkers were already waiting to lower the boat directed back towards Berk into the water. One of the larger Berserker warriors went so far as to grab the back of Savage’s tunic and bodily picked him up with no hesitation, shoving him into the small wooden construct which did not appear to be in the best of conditions to fare the sea. With a nod of his head, the other three Vikings let go of the ropes and the boat fell through the air, landing with a splashed. Savage’s screaming heard by all.

“I’d give him to midnight for the message to be delivered,” Dagur said, looking over the edge of the longboat with glee. “We’ll be back on Outcast Island by then.”

“And what of Jackson?” Stoick finally broke his silence, causing the young chief to turn and look at his in confusion. “You said I’d be back on Berk by sundown tomorrow, but what of Jackson?”

The grin on Dagur’s face almost split his face in two. “To the victor goes the spoils… _of war_.”

* * *

Hiccup wanted to explode; wanted to yell, scream, cry, but he had kept his calm and mounted Toothless, leaving the jailhouse. No one had told him their lockup had been filled to max and they had to take some of the prisoners to the Academy, using the dragon stalls as make shift cells. Alvin had been one of those prisoners.

The flight was made in record time, not that either dragon or rider cared at their new achievement. The acting chief barely had time to unhook himself from the harness and dismounted as he made his way on foot to the entrance. Periwinkle somehow had already arrived and was hovering in front of the two Guards waiting for him. Both of whom were already drawing back their spears to allow her entrance along with Hiccup and Toothless. A third Guard hoisted the gate, pulling the chain to create an opening since the mechanism hadn’t been fixed and probably wasn’t going to be fixed anytime soon.

Hiccup gave a brief inclination of his head before heading into the Academy. He didn’t bother looking at the other cells and their many prisoners. His eyes were already fixated on the cell with Alvin, who had a whole dragon stall to himself. The former Outcast Chief apparently had seen him coming and headed to the front of the cell to meet the newest bane of his existence.

“So how'd that tribal meeting go? Sounds like you had 'em right in the palm of your hand,” the Outcast mocked as his large hands wrapped around the latticing iron bars. His chuckles were dark and ominous, sending an uneasy feeling spiking through Hiccup’s core. Toothless gave out a growl in warning, but it was Periwinkle inches from the iron-gate which had Alvin jerking back.

“Hold thy tongue, mortal, thee is speaking to the Dragon Master!” the tiny Dewdrop Faerie snarled as ice formed on the iron and the Outcast hastily let go with a yelp. The tips of his fingers already exhibiting the symptoms of prolonged exposure to the cold at the briefest of contact and if he hadn’t been watching, the auburn haired teen wouldn’t have believed the sweet little fae could do such damage. Neither would he have believed she had that kind of power. “Do not tempt me, or suffer the consequences of breaking thy oath to a fae. The Winter King won’t be merciful.”

“That’s enough Periwinkle,” Hiccup held the Wyldfae off as he eyed how lattice of iron now mostly covered in frost. He was kind of curious who this Winter King the Dewdrop Faerie spoke of was but pushed the thought aside. Instead, he opened the gate, being mindful not to touch the ice or let the iron come in contact with the fae, and waited.

“Well, this is awkward,” Alvin said taking a hesitant step forward but only one. Toothless snarling at him as ice slowly creeping across the ground towards him had the Outcast properly subdued. “Do I stay? Do I go?”

“Both, you are gonna show me a way into Outcast Island,” the Dragon Rider demanded causing the former chief to look at him warily. He obviously didn’t like the options opened to him. “We're going there together, Alvin. We're going to bring both my father and Jackson home.”

“Ah,” the large man nodded, a look of understanding finally crossing his features followed by a much more sinister expression.

“And if you think of betraying us, the Winter King has laid claim on thy eternal soul,” Periwinkle helpfully added which had the sinister expression melting away into one of horror.

“Follow me,” Hiccup commanded as he headed back towards the iron-gate, the Guard already had it opened since they had been eavesdropping in on his conversation, along with everyone else in the vicinity. A few of the other prisoners were scrambling to get to the back of the stalls and as far away from Periwinkle as she passed by in front of the Dragon Rider.

Alvin was forced to follow by means of a well-placed plasma blast dangerously close to taking off his left foot. The Guards took their own revenge by tripping the Outcast as he passed by, which Hiccup choice to ignore since it gave Toothless time to come around Alvin to his rider’s side. Swinging up onto the Night Fury’s back, the auburn haired teenager secured his harness to the saddle and then looked over at Periwinkle with a thoughtful expression on his face.

Hiccup looked around the framed dome of the Academy, searching the Terrible Terrors perched there. Sitting almost unnoticed behind the two Guards, Head and Butt perched on either side of the gate. One moment, Sneaky was curled up on top of the third Guard manning the gate and gone the next. Izzy circled around the whole Academy; stopping every now and then to land and look down at the prisoners below to make sure none of them were escaping. He had seen Pain inside the dome, nipping at any prisoners who got too close to their cell doors and occasionally shorting off a volley of fire as an intimidating tactic. Then there was Sharpshot perched at the very top of the dome, giving out little chirps now and again that one of the other Terrible Terrors would answer.

Whistling, the green Terrible Terror perked up and flew over and landed on Hiccup’s outstretched arm. “Think you can give Periwinkle a ride to Outcast Island? I don’t want to lose her out at sea.”

Sharpshot screeched and ruffled his wings before head-butting the acting chief in the chin gently.

“I would be just fine flying myself, Dragon Master,” Periwinkle offered, eyeing the Terrible Terror with a tad of trepidation.

“And I would feel better if you had some help,” Hiccup replied, scratching underneath the little dragon’s chin which had him letting out a thrill of pleasure. “I don’t want to be the one to tell Jackson when he gets back that we lost you while flying to rescue him.”

“Very well then, I shall do as you wish Dragon Master,” the orb of icy blue light bowed and climbed on to the Terrible Terror’s back. Sharpshot took a moment to adjust to the foreign feeling and then took to the air, waiting for further instructions.

“Climb on, Alvin, it’s a long way to Outcast Island and we intend to get there before the midday meal,” the acting chief called out as one of the Guard’s ‘helped’ the Outcast up and pushed him towards the teen.

Alvin hesitantly stood to the side of the Night Fury, not appearing as if he was going to getting moving any time soon. Toothless solved the problem by whipping his tail out and around, smacking the man’s legs which had him stumbling forward. After that he climbed on behind Hiccup without further prompting and before he was situated, the dragon took off with Sharpshot and Periwinkle following behind them. Although, Hiccup knew the takeoff was deliberately bumpier than normal and Alvin definitely didn’t appreciate the extra turbulence judging by the grunts and flaying of his arms.

When the Outcast grabbed hold of his shoulders for stability and purchase, tightening to the point of pain, was when Hiccup determined he would have to actually _talk_ with the man again. “You mind loosening up that death grip a little bit?”

Alvin laughed nervously to hide his discomforted as his grip loosened, barely. “Sorry, they all tend to be death grips.”

Toothless didn’t seem to like the answer as his next flap of his wings extended way too far upwards, hitting the dark haired man on either side of his head. A grunt of pain escaped Alvin before one of his hands let go of Hiccup’s shoulder – giving it a much needed reprieve – to hold on to his aching head.

“Toothless, no!” the Dragon Rider chastised. However, it was all for show as the Dragon Rider leaned forward to give Toothless a smirk befitting of Jackson and the dragon gave a small gurgle of approval. Periwinkle’s tinkering laughter didn’t go missed either.

Another silence fell upon them as they flew onwards, giving Hiccup some time to think. Thinking which lead to countless scenarios running through his head about his father and Jackson at the hands of Dagur. About the outcome of what could happen to Berk if his mission failed. If Dagur didn’t keep his word and his father was already dead.

Hiccup hate the silence. He did not want to think. So without meaning to, he blurted out the question which had been nagging him from the back of his mind for a while now. A question no one else was willing to answer.

“So word on the street is… you and my father used to be best friends,” the chief’s son somehow managed to comment casually.

“Yeah, that was a long time ago,” Alvin answered, his tone distant and far off. The man’s weight leaning away from the Dragon Rider and Hiccup felt the need to look back to see if Alvin hadn’t fallen off. The Outcast was still there, but his eyes were glaring off into the distance at nothing in particular.

“So what changed?” Hiccup asked shifting the tailfin as they hit crosswinds and he was forced to compensate.

“Your father and I were young Vikings charged with defending Berk against dragon attacks,” the Outcast began the forbidden tale. “Stoick was the chief's son, so he was in command. I was just a soldier. Sound familiar?”

“It does,” the Head of the Dragon Training Academy agreed, not bothering to look back and give Alvin the pleasure of seeing his discomfort. “Sounds like me and Snotlout.”

The older Viking wasn’t discouraged by the short response and continued. “Yeah, well, anyway, there was a Monstrous Nightmare attack one night, your father and I disagreed on how to defend the village. Well, I disobeyed orders, and there were a few… injuries-,” _deaths_ Hiccup determined, “-things were never the same after that. When Stoick became chief, it was only a matter of time before he banished me.”

“Well, on that cheery note, we've arrived,” the auburn haired teenager said – sending a thankful pray up to Odin – catching sight of Outcast Island off in the distance. He had nudged Toothless forward to fly closer to the ocean and reduce the likelihood of behind spotted between the sharp jagged rocks protruding from the waters.

“Let's get on with it,” Alvin agreed pointing towards the island.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,” Hiccup pulled Toothless to a halt so they were hovering within a cluster of the sharp rocks. Sharpshot landed on one of the rocks, either to take a break or to prepare to attack the Outcast if he made even one wrong move, the Dragon Rider didn’t know. “We can't just fly over the island, Alvin. They're going to be expecting us.”

“I'm well aware of that. We're not flying over the island, we're flying under it,” the haggard man retorted and pointed to the waters below. He then, quiet unexpectedly, shoved his foot on top of Hiccup’s metal prosthetic, shifting the tailfin closed. The response was immediately, Toothless thrashing in air, fighting gravity to keep upright without his much needed tailfin. “Hold your breath.”

“What are you doing?” the Dragon Rider shouted back frantically, attempting to shift the tailfin opened.

“Dive, dragon, dive!” Alvin screamed over him only to yelp when his boot on top of the Dragon Rider’s foot was hit by a ball of fire before it burnt out, only to be covered by a layer of frost.

With the Outcast occupied, Hiccup was able to dislodge the man’s foot and flip open the tailfin to stabilize their flight even as the Night Fury’s paws grazed the surface of the water. “No, Toothless.”

“What? I thought you were gonna trust me,” the dark haired Viking spoke with a sickly sweet sincerity back between the huffing Terrible Terror on one side of the Night Fury and the glaring Dewdrop Faerie on the other side. “Moment of truth, boy.”

The chief’s son had to give it a moment of thought, before looking over at Periwinkle. “Will you be able make it?”

Periwinkle glared on last time at Alvin and nodded her head tersely. “I shall be fine, do not concern yourself with my wellbeing Dragon Master.”

Not giving it another thought, Hiccup tucked Sharpshot and Periwinkle close to his body inside his vest and used one arm wrap around them protectively. “Do it, Bud! Just do it!”

This time it was the Dragon Rider who skillfully closed the tailfin even as Toothless snarled his displeasure at the situation. Moments before they hit the water’s surface, deep breathes of air were greedily gulped down followed by the shocking cold of the ocean engulfed them. Saltwater burned at his eyes, but Hiccup fought to keep them open as the Outcast directed them further and further down into the watery depts.

A jab towards a pile of rocks had Toothless swimming through an almost hidden cavern. One which led them into an underground cave filled with blessed air. Gasps of breath echoed through off the slick rocks as Hiccup fought to unhook his harness from the saddle allowing both dragon and rider to climb out of the water and onto the rocky ledge where Alvin already stood doing his best to wring the water out of his clothing.

Sharpshot and Toothless had an easier time of drying off by shaking the water off their slick scales. Periwinkle, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky as the water clung to her delicate wings which distressed the little Wyldfae. The Terrible Terror was kind enough to help via a small fireball close enough to the fae to quickly dry her off, but not close enough to burn. She gave him a thankful smile and flew up into the air to test her wings before going over and kissing Sharpshot on the nose in gratitude.

“That tunnel will take us directly to the heart of the island,” Alvin motioned to a previously unnoticed tunnel which might have been a natural formation at one point, but had obviously been expanded open by human hands.

“Wait,” Hiccup held up his hand, blocking the Outcast from taking any further steps. “How do you know Dagur hasn't found this tunnel?”

“Because I got a man on the inside who assures me that it's clean,” the former chief of the island confidently grinned, pushing the teen’s arm aside and walking through the cave. Left with no other choice but to follow, the Dragon Rider quickly fell into step behind the mountain of a man. Periwinkle chimed softly before filtering about Hiccup before taking up residency on his shoulder and extinguished her light, to prevent giving away their position while Toothless and Sharpshot brought up the rear.

They walked in silence for the first couple hundred feet before it was replaced by the faint growls of dragons coming from further within the tunnel. It took Hiccup a bit, but he could identify the dragons from their growls alone. The whimpering though, that was clearly human in nature and one he had heard before too. Coming around the corner, Alvin had to shove aside a large boulder to allow then entrance into a chamber Hiccup was familiar with. It was the one he had been held prisoner in a year prior, a few months before Jackson had even arrived.

Most of the cells were still filled with dragons, yet they were all one species and not the multitude of dragons Alvin was last known to have. All of these dragons were the familiar form of Whispering Deaths, growling and snapping at their cages. In front of the cages stood an elder man was busy throwing fish to the displease Boulder-class dragons, terrified out of his skin with a sheep hiding behind his scrawny legs.

“Mildew?” Hiccup recognized the old man. Turning to Alvin and pointing his finger accusingly at the older man. “This traitor is your man on the inside?”

The sheep turned and when it saw Toothless, bleated loudly and tried to run between the grey haired man’s legs. Mildew turned around and dropped the bucket of fish at the sight of the Night Fury stalking closer to him, teeth exposed and growling menacingly. The traitor held up his staff in an effort to defend himself, but Toothless easily grabbed the piece of wood and yanked it out of Mildew’s weak grip.

“Well, he's always been faithful to me,” Alvin pointed out causing the old man to look over towards the Outcast like he was Thor. But Alvin made no move to help free him from his current predicament and just watched as Toothless stalked closer, cornering Mildew and his sheep.

“Oh, well, there's that warm, fuzzy feeling I was looking for,” the acting chief snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and getting a good look at the quivering old man with the scattered fish lying around him. “Mildew, I have to say I never thought I'd see the day you'd be playing nanny to a nursery of dragons.”

“An interesting turn of events, to say the least,” Mildew agreed, pushing himself up and leaned against the cell behind him only to jump forward when the Whispering Death in the cell lunged at the iron latticed gate; displeased at the lack of food.

“So this is where all those Whispering Death eggs you planted came from,” Hiccup remarked walking around the trembling waste of a human and peering into the cell to see countless more eggs tucked as far in the back as possible.

“His idea…” Alvin pointed the finger elsewhere as he coming up beside the teen, “and not a very good one, at that.”

“So this Whispering Death laid all the eggs?” the Head of the Dragon Academy asked, picking up one of the fish and throwing it to the hungry mother dragon. She caught it and devoured the fish in one go. Eying him, the mother dragon came right up to the cage’s bars and nudging her head against his side the best she could in hopes of getting more to eat.

“Every one,” Mildew agreed, picking up another fish and offering it to the Whispering Death. The mother dragon turned from her pleasant self and became wild and unruly once more, nearly snapping the old Viking’s hand off.

“Which would include a large red egg?” Hiccup ventured a guess as he took the fish from the paling man’s unsteady hands and offered it up to the Boulder-class dragon. The Whispering Death in turned gently took it from his hand.

“Odd, that one, I was wondering about it. How did it turn out?” the quivering Viking inquired fighting to keep his voice steady and even, failing spectacularly.

Vivid green eyes looked back at the mother dragon – remembering the Screaming Death – and held out his hand, allowing her to place her head trustingly into the offered appendage. “Eh… big.”

Mildew just clicked his tongue and nodded his head disapprovingly, humming and hawing. Hiccup paid him no mind, pulling his hand back form the Whispering Death and searching his pockets for some parchment. He cursed when he realized he had none on him, wishing he had pouches like Jackson to keep supplies on him in case of emergency like this.

“What are you doing?” Alvin asked having watched as he patted down his pockets.

“Sending a message home,” the teenager answered absentmindedly, turning his head towards the Outcast but catching a glimpse of Periwinkle on his shoulder. He didn’t have parchment, but he had the next best thing. “That red egg turned out to be a Screaming Death. It's been destroying whole islands looking for something, and now it's headed to Berk, but I think I might know what it's really looking for. Periwinkle, you think you and Sharpshot can deliver a message for me?”

“Absolutely, Dragon Master,” the Dewdrop Faerie answered. Flying off of his shoulder to hover before the Dragon Rider’s face and gave him a small bow. Mildew in contrast let out a screech and pointed at the ball of icy blue light, babbling incoherently as Hiccup had the fae repeat the message to make sure she remembered. Alvin finally having enough of his constant jabbering elbowed the elderly man in the gut and ended up knocking the wind out of him.

“All right. Here's our plan-,” Alvin said as soon as Sharpshot took off down the tunnel with Periwinkle on his back. The two would be able to bypass the Berserkers without any trouble since they would be on the lookout for much larger dragons and would – hopefully – overlook the tiny Terrible Terror.

“Uh, no offense, there, Alvin, but your plans your plans are terrible. Here's what we need to do,” Hiccup cut him off before the Outcast chief could even get started.

It took a little while to get things prepared, but once they were ready – although Hiccup wasn’t sure if he could trust either traitorous men – the Dragon Rider headed up to the surface. The plan was almost flawless, in theory. Their one problem in the otherwise flawless plan was the old Viking hadn’t known Jackson was on the island and thus didn’t know where to find the Druid. The first step in their plan was for Toothless and his rider sneak into the Dragon Killing arena where Mildew had confirmed Dagur was keeping his father.

To do so, Hiccup and Toothless had to creep across the island which the auburn haired teenager found to be a bit too easy. His concerns were put to rest when he spotted the majority the Berserker guards patrolling around the arena where they had his father held captive. The Dragon Rider counted four guards from his position behind the outer most hut before having to duck back behind the structure or risk being seen.

“Okay, Bud. It's show time,” the teenager whispered, climbing into Toothless’s saddle. He didn’t even bother to secure his harness, the need for prompt reaction outweighing his need for safety.

The Night Fury grunted before bounding across the surface, not wanting to give away their position by taking to the skies just yet. Even on land, Toothless was fast and precise. The dragon was able to take out the guards Hiccup had made notes of with plasma blasts and rendering them unconscious in matter of seconds. From there, it was simple to slip through the gates of the Dragon Killing arena.

Once hidden in the shadows, Hiccup dismounted and pulled his shield off Toothless’s saddle. Cautiously, he crept into the open arena. Surveying the area and taking one step at a time proved to be the smart choice as he yanked the shield up and deflected a bola away from his face. Toothless let loose a low growl when Berserkers sprang forth from their hiding places, slinging weapons at them.

The Night Fury was forced to jump out of the way as three additional bolas few in his direction, destroying a fourth with a plasma blast. Hiccup wasn’t having any luck of his own, being pushed away from the dragon as he too was bombarded with bolts.

“Toothless, look out!” the Dragon Rider shouted, glancing over in time to see a large cage fall from above, trapping the Strike-class dragon. Toothless’s roar at his sudden confinement had a few of the guards flinching and a few scrambled back as a plasma blast hit the iron but did no good in freeing the enraged dragon. Throwing his weight against the metal bars did nothing but confirm what his rider already feared.

Toothless was truly trapped.

“Welcome back to Outcast Island, Hiccup,” Savage snidely remarked, walking out of one of the stalls as a number of Berserkers and Outcasts ran out of during the ambush and a few more even now were pouring out to surround him with weapons pointed dangerously close to his body. Toothless’s hostility increased, shaking the whole cage with another blast but the bars didn’t give.

Dagur grinned as he came out of his hiding space, strolling straight over to the Night Fury and grinning down at those narrowed acid green eyes. “You're finally mine. All mine.”

The deranged man walked around the caged in an effort to get better look at the Night Fury but Toothless wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction and kept moving around, maintaining eye contact with his enemy the entire time. Pearly white teeth glistened in the light, the fangs so sharp Dagur started murmuring to himself what they would do to his enemies. Hiccup could see the shivers of fear – or it could have very well been in pleasure – running down the Berserker chief’s spine at ever growl coming from the Night Fury.

“First thing we're gonna do is change that name,” Dagur began walking away from his caged prized and over to the group of Vikings surrounding Hiccup. The Dragon Rider for his part, attempted to make a move, only for one of his captors to almost cut his throat wide open with the sharp blade. To add insult to injury, the guard then divested him of his shield.

“It makes no sense. Look at all those teeth,” the deranged Viking continued on, gesturing to Toothless’s teeth. He had to pull his hand back or risk losing it. Leaning forward, Dagur growled right back at the Night Fury and brandished his own sword from its sheath on his back, pointing it at Toothless. “You'll learn to respect me, dragon… Or I'll wear you as a hat.”

“Leave him alone, Dagur!” Hiccup snarled making another attempt to move forward only for two different Berserkers to grab hold of his arms and pulled him back. The auburn haired teenager struggled against his captors but they had the distinct advantage of being fully grown adults and twice his size.

“Put him with his father. We'll dispose of them later,” Dagur ordered waving his sword around dismissively as he eyed Toothless. The weapon was only put away when one of his men presented him with the Gronckle Iron shield and the deranged Viking yanked Hiccup’s shield form the man’s grasp. The deranged Viking turned the weapon this way and that before sliding it on his arm with a demented smile.

* * *

“Ow! Ow, ow, ow, ow! Painful message. Painful message!” Snotlout screamed frantically as he ran into the blacksmith stall where the Dragon Riders had taken up operations since their Academy had been repurposed. The burnt orange and icy blue lights belonging to Fawn and Periwinkle following closely behind the Monstrous Nightmare rider.

The other turned to look for the problem and found Sharpshot’s jaw latched on to Snotlout’s left forearm. Ruffnut and Tuffnut immediately jumped to help with their two Wyldfae guardians Gliss – a small white haired fae with ice-blue eyes who wore a blue outfit similar to Periwinkle – and Rumble – a muscular dark hair, blue eyed male with a dark indigo and silver outfit – flying over each of their shoulders respectively. Together the twins grabbed ahold the green Terrible Terror and pulled while Snotlout worked to remove Sharpshot's teeth from his skin. They succeeded in freeing the Monstrous Nightmare rider’s arm, sending him sprawling onto the floor, and Ruffnut cradled the Terrible Terror into her arms, cooing at the weary dragon.

“Whoa! Is that your skin in his mouth?” Tuffnut asked, pointing at a row of Sharpshot’s fangs.

“That must hurt,” his sister agreed, chuckling as she petted the Terrible Terror before looking over at her brother. An evil look overtook her features as she glanced back at the dragon in her arms and then at the blonde Viking once more.

A second later, Sharpshot was being hurled at Tuffnut, and on instinct, the little dragon reacted at the abrupt motion by attacking Tuffnut’s face. Barf’s rider screeches of pain were ignored by all other Dragon Riders save for his sister’s hysterical laughter.

“Wah! Ow! Argh! Yeah, definitely hurts,” Tuffnut confirmed as Gliss and Rumble worked to dislodge the livid dragon. While the twins had their fun, the other Academy member surrounded one of the table, listening to Periwinkle.

“What does Hiccup want?” Fishlegs asked, wringing his hands together as Iridessa zipped back and forth over his head.

“Thy Dragon Master has an idea to stop the Screaming Death,” the icy-blue fae informed them as Nyx and Astrid nodded their heads in agreement. “But thou duty is to lure it to the Screaming Death to Outcast Island.”

“Okay, what could we use to lure it?” Tuffnut asked, rubbing his nose where Sharpshot had latched on to and looking over at Gliss and Rumble who were feeding the Terrible Terror small pieces of fish.

“It likes eating islands,” Ruffnut offered up, holding up a small stone from Jackson’s workbench. Both twins hummed as they looked at the shiny stone entranced, before the blond Viking suddenly slammed his hands on bench.

“Ha! That's it!” Barf’s rider cried out, gaining everyone’s attention. “We need to find a really tiny island and a really big rope,” he declared snatching the stone from his sister and retrieving a small cord of leather, wrapping it around the stone to dangle in the air for all to see. However, looking at his new creation, a glaring problem came to mind. “Who do we talk to about the rope?”

The shieldmaiden couldn’t hold in her frustration and punched Tuffnut in the arm, eliciting a cry of pain.

“What about the Dragon Root?” Fishlegs offered as Iridessa nodded her head vigorously, excited chimes coming from a couple of the other Wyldfae.

“Eh! And you thought my tiny island idea was dumb. Dragon Root. I mean, a rope can be infinitely big,” the Viking with his blond hair styled in deadlocks grumbled, rubbing his arm and chuckling at the absurdity of the Gronckle rider’s suggestion.

“Great idea, Fishlegs. Gobber locked the Dragon Root up, so we could get rid of it,” Astrid spoke over the Thorston, her excitement building now that they actually had a plan building up.

“Just one problem,” Snotlout snarled with one arm folded across his chest while the other was held out for Fawn to inspect. “All our dragons go nuts when they go anywhere near it.”

Fishlegs shook his head negatively. “Um, if you recall, not all the dragons are affected by the Dragon Root. For example, as a Boulder-class dragon, Meatlug is-”

“Actually, you got two problems,” a voice cutoff the Gronckle rider as one the group of Dragon Riders turned to the forge’s opening to see Terrorthi standing near the opening.

“And what is that?” the Monstrous Nightmare rider snapped to keep himself from hissing in pain as Fawn sprinkled some kind of dust on his opened wounds.

“The Screaming Death is a subspecies of the Whispering Death,” the little girl spoke again, grimacing when she caught sight of Snotlout’s bleeding arm.

“So?” Ruffnut huffed, folding her arms over her mostly flat chest

“So, they’re Boulder-class dragons too,” Terrorthi answered, causing the Dragon Riders to pale at the implications.

“But…but…but,” Fishlegs stuttered out helplessly, “how are we going to lure the Screaming Death to Outcast Island without the Dragon Root?”

“Algaenite,” Terrorthi chirped happily.

“Algae what now?” Tuffnut asked, scratching his head.

“These,” the girl spoke up, digging in her pockets and producing a few greenish-brown stones. “They’re mineral deposits which form in Flightmare Pond. Jackson found out that Neðan loves them. Maybe if we collect enough of them, we can use them to lure the Screaming Death to Outcast Island.”

“The question is can we collect enough of this Algaenite in time?” Astrid pondered out loud, tapping her finger rubbing her chin while looking at the floor.

“We’ll help!” Snuffnut volunteered as he and Gustav peered around either side of the door, having been hidden there the entire time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry (I'm apologizing a lot this time) but no Jack this chapter. He'll come back next chapter and you get to see what's happened to our favorite winter spirit turned human.


	46. Cast Out all Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, its always a good idea to backup your stories on USBs or on the cloud - frequently! - just incase you have a bluescreen of death. That way, you don't have to kill yourself with worry over losing your work or not having an older copy to work on while your computer is getting repaired. X_X
> 
> ConfessedGeek: I hope this satisfies your need for Jackson kicking Dagur's ass.
> 
> Titania_queen_of_fairys: Kisscartoon you say? I must go watch more of the episodes now, though, I can't say if I'll do more of the series save for the two chapter continuation I've got drafted. Thanks for the recommendation!
> 
> Izumine: You're English is fine and I appreciate the - very - long review. Hopefully by now you've received the email I sent you regarding your proposal about fanart and translating my story. If not, please send me another review and we'll figure something out since I don't like to openly disclose my email address (I really wish AO3 had their own PM system set up, but they don't.)
> 
> j99450: I'm not sure Dagur and Alvin will blend well in your giant blender. With all the metal they wear, it might just break it and then where would you be at? Though, I suggest you try Dagur first; ya`know, just to test out the theory and the likes.
> 
> Now all of you, go read the chapter! I know you really wanna. ^.^

Jack feverously worked to free his restrained hands tied high above his head. However, as a result of the position he was bound in, his arms were strained to the point it made it near impossible for him to break free. His struggling only caused the rope to dig further through his lone arm warmer and into his skin while his other wrist was already raw due to his missing arm bracer. Amber eyes could already see a bruise in the shape of a handprint blossoming around his wrist and he wouldn’t be surprise if he started bleeding. Maybe then he could use the red liquid to slide his hands through the bindings; at the very least, it would hide the bruising.

If he could only get enough leverage, Jack could free himself. As it was, he was standing on the tip of his toes barely able to find purchase and keep himself from swinging. What’s more, the brunet was tied in the middle of what appeared to be a chamber of a cave. Everything of use was far out of his reach which was a pity because the chamber was filled with useful stuff. A bed was positioned behind him pointing towards the tunnel entrance and there was a desk to his side with all sorts of sharp objects scatter across both surfaces. On his other side was a rough drawing of what he assumed was supposed to be Toothless impaled by axes and knives.

“Ah! You’re finally awake!” a voice that had unpleasant shivers running up his spine exclaimed in delight.

Brown locks fell into amber eyes as his head snapped away from the ropes and towards the tunnel he had spent who knows how long trying to peer through the darkness. Instead of the darkness – which had him reminiscing of the unpleasant time in Pitch’s lair – amber eyes found a silhouette walking towards him. He couldn’t make out the person, not right away. But the footsteps were heavy and upsetting, getting louder with each stomp until Dagur was revealed in all his deranged glory.

“Considering the company, I would rather not be,” Jack spat, eyes narrowing as the Viking set something down by the tunnel’s entrance and began circling him. The brunet tried to keep him in sight, but it was rather difficult with his current position.

“Defiant, I like that,” Dagur laughed from behind him and the eternal teen fought not to shudder from the breath on the back of his neck. “I like breaking you of that habit even more.”

“A crueler man than you has tried,” the brunet growled, tugging at his bindings harder as he thought of Pitch. The King of Nightmare’s couldn’t keep him down and this deranged Viking wannabe wouldn’t be able to either. “And he failed. What makes you think you’ll succeed?”

“Come now, Druid,” the Berserker chief spoke softly, yanking Jack’s chin upwards and forcing him to look into harsh beady green eyes filled with hatred, “who are you to deny me?”

Dagur brought his mouth down, intending to capture the brunet’s lips in a harsh, bruising kiss. However, the eternal teenager would have none of that and struck out, slamming his head against the Viking’s nose. The redhead stumbled back, but Jack wasn’t done with him yet. He swung his legs up and wrapped them around Dagur’s neck, forcing the Viking closer to him. Using him as leverage, the brunet hoisted himself up and squeezed his legs together around the Berserker’s neck.

The young chief fought, clawing at Jack’s legs to break free. He succeeded in breaking the strangling grip by grabbing onto the brunet’s ankles and pulling. Giving Dagur enough room to slip out from under the Druid’s hold. His helmet noisily clattered to the ground, lost in the struggle, which did very little to hide the Viking’s harsh gasps, desperately sucking in much needed air. Now free to glared at the brunet swinging back and forth from his lost purchase, Dagur cursed him out.

Jack glared back and made sure his voice was clear with no room for misunderstanding. “My name, Dagur, is Jackson Overland. It would be wise of you to remember it.” Jackson followed up his threat with a sly grin, showing how unafraid of the deranged Viking he was.

Dagur back handed him for his trouble, making the brunet spin from the force. Only to stop when the Berserker grabbed him and forced Jackson to look him in the eyes once more.

“As I told the dragon, you'll learn to respect me, _Druid_ … Or will face death by my hands,” the deranged Viking hissed.

Jackson’s grin just widened. “Death does not frighten me, _Viking_. It is you who should fear what is to come at the time of your demise.”

Dagur growled angrily, striking the brunet once more before storming out of the cavern chamber, swiping his helmet off the floor as he went. Jackson hung there limply for a moment, waiting for the world – or was it him? – to stop spinning before looking up. He could feel blood flowing down his chin from his lip but that didn’t stop him from smiling widely.

For there, in his hand was one of the spikes from Dagur’s helmet. Using the pointed end, Jackson dug the spike into his binding and work it back and forth, sawing the rope in two. The brunet fell to the ground, not being able to land on his feet as he would if he was in peak condition and it took him a moment to regain get his bearings before getting up.

The teenager had every intention of leaving this place as soon as possible; however, a glint of blue had his eyes darting over to the desk where his missing arm bracer rested innocently on top. A sneer made its way across his face as he stalked over to retrieve the missing armor, vowing if the gift was broken he would take it out on Dagur. Thankfully – for his peace of mind – the bracer was undamaged and he quickly began to affix it to his arm, wincing as it rubbed against raw, bruised skin. Once he was finished fastening the straps around his arm, amber eyes were drawn to the object Dagur had left by the entrance in his hast to retreat.

“Hiccup,” Jackson smiled as he reached down to rescue the Gronckle Iron shield with Toothless’s silhouette painted on the surface. “Looks like I’ll have help escaping this time around.”

* * *

Hiccup discreetly struggled with his wristed tied in front of him, trying to keep the Berserker guards surrounding him from noticing. He had to desist when one of them forced him to watch Savage savagely muzzled Toothless with a crude metal muzzle. He briefly wondered where Dagur went after the deranged man had taken his shield. However, he didn’t have time to dwell on his missing weapon when more guards escorted his bound father into the Dragon Killing arena. The teenager felt a momentarily flash of relief and happiness to see his father alive and unharmed, which didn’t last when Stoick saw him and frowned disapprovingly.

Neither spoke while the guards shoved the Chief of Berk to stand next to his son. They waited in silence until Dagur returned and the Berserkers’ attention was split between their chief and their captives. Upon seeing the two Hairy Hooligan Tribe members the deranged Viking seemed to perk up, giggling maniacally at the sight of Toothless muzzled and began circling around the cage, taunting the dragon.

“Are the other Dragon Riders here, son?” Stoick used the Berserkers distracted state to quietly converse with his son.

“Well… not exactly,” Hiccup replied, keeping his gaze fixed on the deranged chief. Something looked different about him, but the auburn haired Viking couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Oh, the Berk fleet,” the chief hummed, having no clue at all what his son had in store.

“No,” the Dragon Rider responded automatically, still focused on the demented Viking circling around Toothless. The redhead Berserker still wore all his clothing from his boots up to his helmet, yet something nagged at Hiccup as being out of place.

“Do you have any plan at all?” Stoick asked, turning ever so slightly in order to glance at him.

Giving up on finding out what had changed in Dagur, Hiccup turned his head to face his father uncaring the motion gave away their conversation. “I do, actually.”

“Oh, good, good,” the massive man deadpanned excepting an explanation and when he received nothing further, probed on. “Would you like to fill me in?”

“Uh, no,” the teen hummed and hawed, knowing the Chief of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe wasn’t going to like his plan. Moreover, his father would like the plan even less seeing as his capture had been a part of said plan. “I'd just like to watch it unfold, if it's all the same to you.”

Gesturing his head towards the pacing deranged Viking, Hiccup signaled him to watch.

“-I have big plans for you, Mr. Night Fury,” Dagur carried on taunting Toothless. “You'll be the new symbol of the Berserkers. Every corner of the archipelago will know and fear you.” The young redhead never noticed when the ground opened up behind the guard standing closest to Hiccup, swallowing the Berserker up while the man’s chief continued rambling to himself, none the wiser. “Of course, we'll need to change all the sails and shields, and I'll need a new belt buckle. What's that gonna cost? Well, we'll worry about that after we've burned Berk to the ground.”

In the time it took Dagur to walk to the other side of the arena and head back, three more guards had been swallowed up by the ground. Still the deranged Viking didn’t take noticed. Hiccup turned and gave his father a lopsided grin when all their guards around them were gone.

“Hey!” Dagur turned around abruptly and the Night Fury rider froze, fearing the plan would be ruined. “How about ‘Deathkiller’?” he asked Toothless as the two guards who had been in his line of vision just seconds pervious fell through the ground while the redhead’s attention was elsewhere. “You like that name? Deathkiller? No? Oh, well. We'll keep brainstorming.

“I mean, there's gotta be ‘death’ in it, right? I mean…,” the Berserker chief trailed off as the earth rumbled and he finally turned around to find the majority of his men were missing.

The ground rumbled again as the few remaining Berserkers looked around, scarred out of their minds before Whispering Deaths came bursting out from below. One of the Boulder-class dragons stopped to survey the group of humans, observing them all and taking a special interest in Hiccup before roaring and launching itself through the rusted iron dome. The frame held for all of a moment, groaning under the stress and shattered in to pieces as the cyclone of Whispering Deaths flew out to their much coveted freedom.

The humans were left dealing with the aftermath of the massive tunnels system dug underneath the Dragon Killing arena as the ground began to cave-in. Large cracks forming in the once solid rock foundation and spreading outwards, creating a web of fissures. The ground Hiccup and Stoick stood on plummeted a few inches down and away from rising platform Dagur stood on; their stomachs dropping with it. Their racing hearts slowed down when the two Haddocks realized they were fine at the moment.

“Wha… what's going on? What is this?” Dagur screamed, his head whipping around him as demented green eyes took in the surrounding chaos.

Another Whispering Death burst forth from the ground. Unlike the other Boulder-class dragons, this one had a few additions. The biggest of which was Alvin holding on to the tail of the dragon with one hand while his other wrapped tightly around Mildew’s arm. When the dragon was clear of the crumbling earth, the former Outcast chief hurled the old Viking towards Toothless’s cage.

Alvin’s aim was perfect and Mildew slammed head first into the cage, the old man’s helmet the only reason he wasn’t knocked out from the throw. He needed a minute to pick the lock before flinging the cage door open, yet the old dragon-hating Viking blocked the entrance. Grabbing ahold of the muzzle, Mildew yanked with all his might and pulled the leather bindings off. Toothless’s fury filled roar echoed throughout the arena seconds later as pearly white teeth dangerously glistened in the light.

“Alvin, Mildew, and Whispering Deaths,” Stoick said drily before his voice rose to new heights. “ _This was your plan?!_ ”

“Did not see that coming, did you?” Hiccup grinned with great enthusiasm even as screams of pain and fright bombarded them from all sides.

Alvin chose that moment to drop to the ground by Hiccup as the Whispering Death carrying him flew by. He landed on his feet, only stumbling a little bit, throwing out his hand to steady himself as the disintegrating foundation gave another shutter. Standing up, the dark haired Viking worked feverishly to untie the ropes binding Hiccup. When his overly large hands got in the way, the Viking resorted to pulling out a jagged dagger and cut him free before moving on to Stoick’s bindings.

“Just like the good, old days,” Alvin laughed giddily as Stoick worked the feeling back into his hands. Suddenly, the Chief of Berk lashed out and knocked the Berserker coming up behind the Outcast out cold, a grin forming on Stoick’s face. A nodded of his head to Alvin – which was answered with a grin of his own – and the two launched themselves into the chaos, dodging dragons and Berserkers alike. The few Outcasts in the arena quickly changed sides once more, throwing their allegiance back to their chief and attacked the nearest Berserkers.

Hiccup didn’t even bother with watching the massacre and sprinted across the rough terrain, leaping over the small fissures and ducking under two Berserkers after his head. He only had a moment of satisfaction when the two knocked each other out before he had to dodge another Viking’s weapon. He really wished had his shield right about now. A plasma blast took care of the attacking Viking as Toothless came to his rescue.

“Ya! Come on, Toothless!” Hiccup shouted over the riot.

The dragon ran towards his rider, blasting at those who got in his way and using his tail to knock others aside. Before he could reach Hiccup, the ground beneath the Night Fury gave away. Toothless’s frighten roar increased in volumes as he and the Berserkers attacking him fell into the collapsing hole.

The Dragon Rider, no matter how much he wanted to follow after the dragon, had to jump back and out of the way of the dome frame sinking in to the arena. Massive rods of metal almost crushed him as they dropped from above. The Berserker behind him wasn’t as lucky. His arm was severed off before a piece of rusted iron went straight through his gut. Hiccup didn’t have need to see the end result as the ground gave way beneath him to know the man was dead.

The auburn haired Viking saved himself by leaping up and grabbing hold of a piece of the dome frame dangling in front of him. The metal shifted and groaned, making sounds as if it too was going to break. Somehow, despite the frame jerking to a sudden halt and leaving him hanging above an open pit of darkness, Hiccup managed to keep his grip.

He frantically looked around for anything to save him, only to have his breath catch in his throat at the sight of his father in a similar situation, hanging by the ledge of the pit. The ground beneath his feet gone. Stoick didn’t pull himself up though, but swung out to grabbed the back of Alvin’s scalemail armor even as the man knocked a Berserker out on their small dissolving patch of rock and threw the Outcast over the ledge to safety. The Hairy Hooligan Tribe chief then repeated the process with a cowering Mildew who was backing away from the crumpling edge. Once the elderly traitor had been thrown to safety, only then did Stoick pull himself up.

“Okay, Night Fury. Come to daddy,” Dagur’s yell had Hiccup glancing down from where he was suspended in midair into the depths below him.

The darkness was hard to penetrate, but vivid green eyes found the deranged Viking had also fallen down into the pit and miraculously landed on a stable niche. What was more, Dagur was making his way across the available shelves, jumping over fissures and dodging out of the way of crumbling boulders as he headed straight towards a second niche where Toothless was trapped. A bright light of plasma built up in the Night Fury’s mouth, but there was no resulting blast and the light died down.

“Six-shot limit. Oh, great,” Hiccup muttered, only for it to turn into a yelp as the piece of iron he was holding trembled. The momentary distraction cost him his view of the Berserker and when vivid green eyes found him again, Dagur had rounded up a few of his soldiers fortunate enough to survive the fall and had them corner the dragon. “Toothless!”

The Night Fury fought them off the best he could, but too many of them had fallen – or in some cases jumped in – to the growing fissure and all of them were combining their efforts in subduing the flightless dragon. Hiccup contemplated letting go, trusting Toothless to do whatever it took to catch him. However, before he could release his grip on the metal, a bola came out of nowhere, catching two of the Berserkers and binding them together.

An arrow followed soon afterwards, but missed hitting anyone completely. Instead, the bolt imbedded itself in the wall above the Night Fury. It was only when the line attached to the end of the arrow was pulled taught that the rope became visible and a blue blur swung across the pit, landing beside Toothless.

Jackson used the shield attached to his arm to knock out the two remaining Berserkers before swinging himself up and into the Night Fury’s saddle. His foot already in the process of shifting the mechanically tailfin even before he was completely in the saddle.

“ _NO!_ ” Dagur screamed chasing after them but it was already too late.

Toothless was in the air, flying up and underneath Hiccup. This time, the Dragon Rider didn’t even hesitate and let go of the beam, falling right behind Jackson.

“So, since I found your shield, do I get to keep it?” was the first thing out of the brunet’s mouth.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you wanted, just get us out of here!” Hiccup yelled as bolts flew too close for comfort.

“You got it,” the Druid said, shifting the tailfin and Toothless soared through one of the holes in the dome-frame moments before the structure completely came apart.

The collapsed turned out to work in the Berserkers favor as they used the iron frame as a ladder, climbing out and hurling even more weapons at the Night Fury. Toothless dodged, yet there were too many close calls and the flight was nowhere as smooth and precise as his flying would have been if Hiccup were the one flying.

They were saved when a cloud of gas came from above and separated the Berserkers from them. A hissing sound followed as the gas ignited and a huge explosion rocked the area.

“Whoa, this is chaos on a level I've never seen before!” Ruffnut shouted in delight, as Barf and Belch flew to the rescue.

“I know,” Tuffnut shouted back in agreement. “I want to live here!”

“Forever!” the twins finished together.

“Boy, are we ever glad to see you guys,” Hiccup sighed in relief while Meatlug spewed lava rocks at some of Berserkers off to his left, close enough for him to feel the heat and that was too close for comfort.

“Don't thank us yet. Things are about to get a lot crazier,” Fishlegs gulped as the Gronckle came up alongside Toothless. His grinned faltering when he saw it was Jackson flying before it turned into the brightest smile when he realized the brunet was alive. “It’s good to see you’re alright Jackson.”

Jackson grinned back, grimacing when the action pulled at his split lip. “It’s good to see you too Fishlegs.”

With Meatlug providing firepower, the Druid followed them to land next to Stoick. Hiccup was the first to dismount and Jackson was untangling his foot from the stirrups only to freeze at the ear-piercing roar coming from the ocean. The four turned and looked on as Stormfly carrying a net full of a greenish brown goop approaching Outcast Island. Behind her, the Screaming Death followed and when Hiccup had told Jackson the dragon had grown even more since it was first hatched on Berk, he hadn’t been lying. If anything, it was a gross understatement.

“Why in the name of Odin did you bring that here?” Stoick shouted waving his arms around as the Druid could do no more than stare at the gigantic dragon.

“This may be the only chance we have to get rid of it,” Hiccup half explained, half yelled. “I saw the Screaming Death's mother. It's been destroying those islands searching for her.”

“That thing has a mother?” the chief whispered, although it sounded more like a dawning realization then anything. Still, his son answered anyways.

“Yeah,” the Head of the Dragon Training Academy pointed to a Whispering Death who was surrounded by the other, smaller Boulder-class dragons. While the cyclone of dragons appeared to be taking out as many Berserkers as possible, they were all surrounding the mother dragon, protecting her more from those who tried to attack than actually fighting.

Another roar had the mother Whispering Death looking out to sea and the members of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe knew the precise moment she spotted the Screaming Death. A much weaker roar from the tiny dragon – in compared to the monstrous Titan before them – held a sort of longing sound to it. There was no doubting the mother had recognized the Titan Wing Boulder-class dragon as one of her brood and a third roar from the Screaming Death alerted them to the fact it too recognized the Whispering Death as its mother.

“They've seen each other,” Fishlegs whispered out, not knowing how this would work out, eager and nervous all the same.

“All we have to do now is get them together and get clear of this place,” Hiccup took a step forward, climbed back into the saddle.

“Then what?” Jackson asked after scooting back to make room for the auburn haired Viking.

“I'm hoping it does exactly what I think it should,” the Head of the Dragon Training Academy answered cryptically.

“And what would that be?” the brunet asked, casually deflecting a bola with the shield still attached to his arm.

“Something good?” the Night Fury rider more asked than answered, all of them wincing as the deafening roar grew louder. Meaning the Screaming Death was closer, a lot closer. They could now see Astrid’s silhouette on Stormfly’s back, meaning she could definitely hear them if they were to yell which Hiccup monopolized on. “Now, Astrid, now!”

“Thank Odin,” the shieldmaiden sighed in relief, releasing the rope tied to the side of Stormfly’s saddle and allowing the net full of rocks and dead algae to fall to the ocean below. “Algaenite away!”

The Screaming Death kept flying forward though, no longer interest in the Algaenite and headed straight for its mother. The massive white dragon’s red eyes softened upon reaching the Whispering Death and they no longer looked like they were glued in a perpetual glaring state but held a vagueness to them. Almost like the Screaming Death saw what was before it, but couldn’t believe its eyes.

“Oh, I see. It wants its mommy,” the cackled laughter had the Hairy Hooligan tribal members’ heads snapping down to see Dagur and his men had finally escaped the pit and in their distracted state, one of the Berserkers succeeded in lassoing the mother dragon. Together, the group of Berserkers pulled the Whispering Death matriarch down.

The Boulder-class dragon rounded on the men, but didn’t get far as two more of Dagur’s men caught the Whispering Death within additional lassos followed by the Berserker chief himself. The mother dragon roared out in displeasure, attempting to fight them off, but with the four men holding her down, she could do nothing but lash out with her tail, only for Dagur to trap the end under one of his boots.

“Dagur, no! You don't know what you're doing,” Hiccup shouted as Toothless glided down the pit to land a good distance away from the Berserkers, but close enough to react if needed be. “You let that Whispering Death go before you destroy us all!”

“Why would I do that? Hello, _I'm Deranged!_ ” the Berserker sarcastically snapped. Turning his head to glare at the auburn haired Viking. His momentarily lapse in concentration had him shifting his weight which gave the Whispering Death enough leeway to move about and she used to her advantage. Yanking the spiked appendage out from underneath Dagur’s foot, the mother dragon used her newly won freedom to strike out at one of her other captors, knocking the man out. However, the Viking next to the unconscious man released his hold on the rope in favor of pinning the dragon’s tail down.

“Well, can't argue with logic like that,” Jackson muttered only loud enough for the teenager in front of him to hear.

“Right?” Tuffnut agreed, chuckling slightly

Or so he thought up until the point Belch’s head lowered down so it was almost right next to Toothless, his rider hanging upside-down from the Hideous Zippleback’s neck from crossed legs. Ruffnut happened to be the saner of the twins at the moment and sat properly in her saddle as Barf lowered his head on the other side of the brunet.

The Whispering Death, not being able to get anywhere, let out a cry of distress. One which was answered with a roar of rage from the Screaming Death above right before the large white dragon descended on them. Instead of the albino dragon heading straight for Dagur and the Berserkers holding its mother captive, the beast took out its rage on all the humans at ground level first, unable to reach those in the pit.

One unlucky man was swallowed whole before being regurgitated into another Viking. Whereas Alvin was nearly impaled by the white dragon’s spiked tail, narrowly escaping his faith when the massive dragon took notice of another Berserker off to its side and lashed out at him with its tail. The Outcast barely had time to breathe a sigh of relief before he was dodging out of the way of boulder size debris the Screaming Death was kicking up in its mad dash to hurt, injure, and maim any living being that was not dragon kind. The other Dragon Riders had to dive into the pit, landing on various niches to avoid being caught in the havoc going on above ground.

“Back off, Hiccup! You know if I destroy her, that thing will take us all out!” Dagur threatened, drawing his sword from his back and pointing it dangerously close to the bound Whispering Death.

“He's right. Everyone, back off,” the son of the chief commanded as the dragons all took a step back.

“Wise choice,” the deranged Viking chuckled arrogantly. His sword inching even closer to the Whispering Death despite their show of good faith, which did not surprise any of them; they were dealing with Dagur the Deranged after all. “Now, I might be interested in a trade.”

Jackson’s grip on Hiccup tightened ever so slightly and not letting up in the slightest at the demented Viking’s words. The auburn haired teen thought he hid his surprised well from the brunet’s uncharacteristic show of fear, but his facial features must have betrayed him.

“Oh, come on, really? You couldn't see this coming?” Dagur asked exasperated. His hand not occupied by the weapon tightening around the fraying rope holding the struggling Whispering Death down.

A cry from above had all of them looking up. “Never retreat! Never surrender!”

“Snotlout!” the Head of the Dragon Academy shouted, reaching out his hand as if that action alone could stop the Monstrous Nightmare and his rider where they were.

“Go for it!” Jackson yelled gleefully at the same time as Hookfang ignited into flames.

In an unusual move, the Stoker-class dragon started to fly in a tight circle while simultaneously breathing out a large lungful of flames, creating a spiraling mass of fire, steadily growing bigger and bigger with each revolution. On Hookfang third rotation, the dragon suddenly came to a halt on the other side of the fireball while continuing to expel his flames. In conjunction with a Wind Blast from his wings, Hookfang hurtled the flaming ball straight at Dagur.

“Oh!” was all any of the Berserkers could get out before the sphere hit them directly and all of the Berserkers were engulfed in flames.

The ropes holding the Whispering Death were incinerated due to the intense heat yet the dragon’s scales kept the mother dragon from being burned like the humans around her. She could have been seriously injured, if she’d stayed engulfed in the flames, but the matriarch of the Whisper Deaths wasted not a millisecond in escaping once her bindings were gone.

A loud roar from the mother dragon was answered by the various Whispering Deaths surrounding the pit and echoed by the Screaming Death above. It was interesting to note, the giant white dragon creased its rampage upon hearing the matriarch’s roar and flew harmlessly over the pit, waiting for its mother liked a petulant child.

Letting out another roar, this one much softer and less enraged, the Whispering Death flew over towards Toothless. A nudged from behind him had Hiccup standing up in the stirrups and reached a hand out. In turn, the Boulder-class dragon butted her head against the offered appendage. A soft gentle growl let him know she was grateful for his efforts before she pulled back. She then flew a little bit higher and flicked her tail around the Dragon Rider and across dark brown locks, ruffling Jackson’s hair. The Druid laughed and dug into his pouch, retrieving a small piece of Algaenite.

Offering it to the Boulder-class dragon, the Whispering Death gently took it from his hand and swallowed the petrified algae whole. A screech had both Jackson and Hiccup looking over to see another Whispering Death to their right, followed by another screech to their left where another Whispering Death was. Toothless growled and took a step back as more and more of the Boulder-class dragons surrounded them.

“Sorry, just had the one,” the brunet shrugged his shoulders, showing them his empty hand. The Whispering Deaths all gave out displeased rumbles but one sharp, low hiss from the matriarch had them backing away without any further grumbling. Together, the cyclone of dragons flew out of the pit and the Dragon Riders followed; all of them wanting to get as far away from Dagur as they could.

Once above ground, the dragons from Berk landed and together they watched as the Cyclone of Whispering Deaths fly out to meet the Screaming Death. A gentle snarling, one which didn’t sound right coming from such a massive dragon, vibrated out of the albino dragon’s mouth as it looked longingly at its mother it had been searching for so long. The mother dragon gave an answering screech and flew over to the white dragon, nuzzling her head against the massive head of the Screaming Death.

As one, they turned and looked at the Dragon Riders. Without warning, the Screaming Death lunged forward, stopping way too close to Toothless for Hiccup’s comfort. The Night Fury didn’t flinch, not even as the massive dragon opened its mouth and let out a mighty roar, right in their faces. Jackson had to hang on, burying his head into the brown fur vest in front of him to avoid getting saliva on him. The auburn haired teen wasn’t so lucky.

When the roar finally creased and none of them felt like they were going to fall off by the sheer force, the Screaming Death fixed its red eyes on the three of them. A hard look crossed its face as it appeared to search their very souls, looking for something. Whatever the massive dragon was looking for, it seemed to find it; because with a single nod of its head, the Screaming Death turned and flew off.

“Uh, you're welcome?” Hiccup offered as the massive white dragon rejoined the rest of the Cyclone of Whispering Deaths. Toothless let out a content growl of his own, which had Jackson bursting into a fit of laughter for reasons unknown. The auburn haired teen didn’t even bother to figure out why the Druid was laughing and leaned over, rubbing the Night Fury’s head.

Their view of the Boulder-class dragons fly off was cut off when Hookfang landed right in front of Toothless, Snotlout already spewing out excuses regarding his earlier actions. “Okay, I know I wasn't following orders, Hiccup, but I… Well, um-”

“Snotlout, you did the right thing,” Hiccup finished for him. Yeah, so his cousin had followed his orders – again – and while what he had done was dangerous, if not suicidal, Snotlout had saved them all. If Dagur had killed the matriarch of the Whispering Death Cyclone, the Head of the Academy didn’t doubt the Screaming Death would have killed them all in revenge. His own choice to play it on the safe side nearly cost them their victory but the Monstrous Nightmare rider had prevented it because he saw an opening Hiccup hadn’t and took the risk.

“Yeah, I did, but…” the broad-shouldered Viking continued to rant, his cousin’s words not sinking in right away. “Wait, what? Are you messing with me? I was reckless!”  Snotlout accused, pointing his finger at Hiccup.

“Sometimes reckless can be courageous,” Jackson remarked.

“And you realized you were reckless,” the Head of the Dragon Academy nodded in agreement, which was a real improvement for Snotlout. It meant he was paying attention to Hiccup and was learning. The brunet Viking had known what he was doing was reckless but did it anyways and while that wasn’t the ideal thing to do in all situations, it was an improvement. There was hope for him yet. “Your suspension is well… suspended.”

Hiccup nudged Toothless to get him to move closer to Hookfang and offered his arm out to his cousin. The brunet Viking looked at him suspiciously before clasping their arms together.

“Welcome back to the Academy, cousin,” the chief’s son acknowledged their relationship for the first time out loud in years.

“You know I’m not going to listen to you still, right fishbones?” Snotlout grinned back, but neither of them released the other’s arm.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Hiccup replied, before a scream had the two letting go of each other and all the Dragon Riders turning towards the source. Their dragons tense and ready to attack because that was no ordinary scream, that was a war cry.

They saw Dagur hurtling towards them, sword raised but before he could get in to striking distance, he slammed into a fist and knocked himself out. Alvin came around the corner of the rock, rubbing his right wrist and walking to stand over the top of the dazed deranged Viking.

“Hello, Dagur,” he said, with a huge manic smile on his face. One that promised payback for everything the Berserker chief had put him through. “Remember me?”

“Oh, no,” the deranged Viking squeaked out. He tried to get up and run, but the Outcast chief had already grabbed ahold of the smaller chief and held him at arm’s length to keep the teen’s frantic kicks from connecting. When he realized couldn’t break free, Dagur turned his head to face the group of Dragon Riders pleadingly. “No! Hiccup! Brother? Druid- er…? Help, please! I was just kidding, everything was just a joke. Haha. It was-”

“Take him away,” Hiccup glaring at the Berserker when he felt Jackson tense up behind him.

“Gladly,” Alvin said, heading towards the caverns which housed his prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so, who really wants to kill Dagur now? 
> 
> *Offers Dagur up* 
> 
> Please him and not me.


	47. Cast Aside Our Difference

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a love hate relationship with this chapter. I'm trying to wrap everything up but it just doesn't seem to be coming out right and I keep having to rewrite everything. Still, I've put off posting this trying to get it right and I'm still not completely happy with it but since it's done better than the last few drafts I'm posting it.
> 
> Mihas: How did I not foreshadow Dagur's interest in Jack? The first time he meet him, he asked to buy him from Hiccup and he wants Jack as a spoil of war. I thought I foreshadowed and implied things pretty well. But you are correct in the fact that this will make Hiccup and Jack finally talk. So, go read and see how things turn out for them. :)

Hiccup watched from Toothless’s back as Berserkers were lead down into the pits, using the area as a massive holding cell for the invaders until it was decided what to do with them. Dagur was being held in the pen which once housed the matriarch Whispering Death and the rest of her clutch but had since been abandoned, taking the eggs with them when they left.

Fishlegs and Meatlug were on the ground, over watching the escorting of the prisoners to the makeshift ladder leading down to the pit. He hadn’t been so sure of himself at first, but after remembering he had his Gronckle Iron sword strapped to Meatlug’s saddle and had retrieved the weapon, the burly Viking did not have any further problems. He didn’t look as intimidated as he had been before and he even managed to disarm a few of the Vikings with hidden weapons. The Gronckle at his side gleefully eating the fallen weapons and spewing up the melted remains dangerously close to the other prisoners’ feet as a warning to the rest of the Berserkers.

Snotlout was actively hunting down any of Dagur’s men who had dared to flee before the end of the battle and had gone further inland. Hookfang and him would periodically swoop over the pit to drop another screaming Viking down into the abyss. His treatment of the Berserkers had a few of them surrendering before they were subjected to the same fate. Savage wasn’t one of them though and Snotlout took personal pleasure in delivering the man to Alvin instead of dropping him into the pit. From the look of the former second-in-command of the Outcast Tribe, it was truly worse than being dropped into the pit.

Then there was Astrid who had decided being chased by the Screaming Death gave her the allowance to perch on a rock not far from Hiccup. She lounged back and helped oversee the prisoner transport and kept them in line when it suited her. The tall rock gave her the best vantage point to take on any brave fools who were stupid enough to try to escape. With one point of her finger, Stormfly would let out a barrage of spines to rain down, making a barrier between the escapee and their freedom. A few had tried; however, it only took the twin’s circling above one escaping Berserker, letting out a cloud of gas and igniting the flames to halt any further attempts much to Tuffnut’s and Ruffnut’s displeasure.

Personally Hiccup thought the escape attempts had stopped not because of the twins’ gleeful laughs as they created walls of flame to herd the men back towards the pit and more due to the fact the prisoner came out with half his arm covered in burns. The Head of the Dragon Training Academy couldn’t quiet condemn their actions, but neither could he praise them either. Their tactic had worked well, not to mention showed they were not above maiming those which opposed them as Dagur had led his men to believe.

The Berserkers had already seen them back down on a few occasions before. Not willing to kill if it wasn’t needed. However, it made the Hairy Hooligan Tribe appear weak in their eyes, in Dagur’s eyes, and they didn’t expect any of the younger Dragon Riders to retaliate with lethal force. After today, that consensus would change. They had shown the Berserkers why they had been and still were a formidable tribe and one not to be messed with.

Thankfully, they were almost finished and all of them could go back to Berk soon, leaving Alvin to deal with his rebellious Outcast and take care of the Berserker prisoners until a decision could be reached between the two chiefs on what to do with Dagur and his fleet. The though had him looking around for his father; the last he had seen of Stoick was when he had headed off to speak with Alvin. It took him a moment, but he spotted the two large Vikings standing off near the cliffs.

“Come on, Bud,” Hiccup murmured, the dragon seemingly read his mind and walked towards the men. However, the wind chose that moment to blow just right to catch their words and filtering them in his direction, causing the Night Fury rider to pull Toothless up short to listen without either of them being the wiser to his eavesdropping.

“Who'd have thought it would've come to this? Eh Stoick?” Alvin asked his rough voice a bit more ragged after all the war cries and screaming which had taken place earlier. The roughed up Outcast Chief turned away from the ocean and towards the equally roughed up Chief of Berk.

“There's more than enough blame to go around, Alvin,” his father said glancing over at his once friend. Stoick brought his hands behind his back in a gesture Hiccup was familiar with; it was the one he used when he had chiefing duties and needed to appear strong even if he didn’t feel that way. “But that's in the past what you did today for me… for my son…”

Much to his surprised, the auburn haired teenager watched as his father held out his hand and Alvin looked at it with such surprise that it looked like he could not believe his own eyes. However, it didn’t take the Outcast long to clasp hands with his former best friend and Hiccup felt that there was hope for both of their tribes.

“A life for a life,” Jackson said, coming to stand next to Toothless and startling the Viking on his back.

“Huh?” the auburn haired teen hummed inelegantly, looking down at the Druid. His face was dirty and there was a trail of dried blood leading from his lip and down his chin. Most of his clothing was filthy and vivid green eyes caught a few dark splotches of color surrounding either of his wrists when the wind blew his cloak aside. However, those were the worse injuries he could see on the Druid. It was what he didn’t see which worried him.

“Alvin, he’s made an oath to the Wyldfae before Snotlout and I let him out of the cell. For every life he has taken, he must protect and save another life in place of the ones he denied the same right. From his actions today, he had begun to do just that,” the Druid whispered softly, amber eyes looking back at the two chiefs before turning to Hiccup with a smile. “You’d be proud; it was Snotlout who decision on what the oath should be.”

“I am,” the Head of the Dragon Training Academy confided to his friend. “I just don’t want it going to his head.”

“Don’t we all. It’s big enough as it is,” Jackson chuckled before letting out a yawn. It had been a long day after all.

Hiccup caught the action, even as the brunet tried to stifle the motion and just shook his head. “Come on, let get the others and go home.”

Jackson didn’t argue with him and – for the first time in his association with Jackson – the Druid took the offered hand, using it to steady himself as he climbed onto Toothless’s back. “Let’s.”

* * *

Commander Huffnut growled as she stalked through the village, the two little ball of light following her buzzing just as agitatedly as she was. Nyx – the fae who was supposed to be with Astrid – had informed her and Fury – her own little dark skinned, curly brown hair and dark eyes fae wearing the same uniform as Nyx – of the stupidity of her acting chief and his Dragon Riders. They had gone on to Outcast Island without her or anyone else and they had even left behind their Wyldfae guardians.

She didn't actually know how much help the Wyldfae would have been to them; however, they would never know now that the teenagers had gone off on their own without any of the fae. The members of the Academy had been lucky up until this point, but none of them were prepared for a full scale war. They should have waited for her. As the Commander of Berk Guard, she was prepared for war, her troops – the men and women currently standing ready in the village square – were ready for war, the Dragon Riders were not ready going by all she’d observe of the small group.

"Puffnut!" the Commander barked for her sister – the Captain of the Reserve Guards – who stepped out from underneath Skully’s bony wing and walked forwards to her sister. "Have the preparations been made?"

"Yes," Puffnut nodded her head. "The reserve men- "a shieldmaiden from the crowd growled "-and women are ready to go match along with the rest of the Guard. Typhan and Firefang have volunteered to stay back and guard the village while we're gone with the children's dragons help. Gruffnut and Piglegs are gathering those who are staying behind and taking them to the Great Hall."

"Good." Huffnut nodded, turning towards the assembled armada. "Troops!"

"Sir!" they snapped off a response simultaneously.

"We have prepared for war with the tribes of the archipelago and have been lucky enough to have never had to face an enemy in the battlefield for years. However, the time of peace has pass, now we must fight to defend our lands, our home, _our chief!_ Some of you will have the honor of joining the feast in the Halls of Valhalla, but that won't deter us, will it?" the Commander asked of her troops. They cheered in response. "To the longboats!"

"Ai!" the Vikings marched towards the cliffs, intending to following the gangplanks down to the docks. However, when the Vikings in the lead stopped just as suddenly as they began, those behind them were forced to halt as well.

"What's the hold up?!" the Commander shouted as she pushed her way to the forefront. Nyx and her guard of fae flew above the Vikings’ heads and made their way to the front of the armada at a much faster pace. However, they stopped short just as Huffnut did when she caught sight of the flock of dragons flying towards them and froze in shock.

The troops backed off and cleared a space for the massive beasts to land. The first to touch down was Hookfang, the Monstrous Nightmare all but laying down to allow the riders on his back to step off in a dignified fashion. The uncharacteristic behavior was due to Stoick being the one to riding Hookfang along with Snotlout behind him. Once on the ground, their chief turned to face the gathered warriors.

"There is no need for war," Stoick addressed them as the other dragons landed around him. "Neither Dagur nor the Screaming Death are an issue any longer. We have seen the last of them for a long time. A _very_ long time."

There was silence, before the whole crowd erupted in cheers and screams of exhilaration. The noise had those still inside their huts peeking out and when they saw the dragons towering over the gathered troops, they tentatively walked out. Upon catching a glimpse of their chief, safe and sound, they too joined in the joy and hailed his return. A few of the gathered Dewdrop Faeries even flew over and greeted the chief, startling Stoick. He looked around and raised an eyebrow at the countless number of Wyldfae out in the open and actively interacting with the villagers as if it was a common occurrence.

Periwinkle immediately flew over to check on Jackson when he dismounted Toothless and many of the Wyldfae followed her example when they too caught sight of the Druid.   They swarmed him, creating a slight breeze which had his clothing swaying while the true wind ruffled his hair. Chimes and rings easily heard over the roaring of the Vikings assaulted his ears when they saw the extent of his injuries but he brushed aside their worry. After being pacified the little faeries who’d assigned themselves of the various Dragon Riders broke off to check over their chosen wards and ended up resting on shoulders when they found all in relatively good health.

The happiness soon turned into a celebration. After the last year of stressful situations with Dagur, the Outcasts, and the Screaming Death, to hear all their problems had been solved in one day and their chief was returned safe and sound was the perfect excuse for such an event. Food was brought out of the Great Hall and the center of the village was cleared, making room for the people and fae alike to dance. Tables and chairs were brought out from huts and mead was flowing by the barrel. Music filled the air as the celebration gained momentum and it was hard press to find someone not enjoying themselves.

Jackson didn’t get a chance to join in, not that he got a much of an opportunity to try as Terrrorthi pulled him towards her home to have her mother or father look him over seeing as Gothi was already busy. The elderly woman had discreetly begun treating the wounds the chief received the moment his speech was over. Afterwards, the healer moved on Hiccup and the other Dragon Riders.

Once Gothi was done with the auburn haired teen, the Head of the Dragon Academy was pulled aside by Commander Huffnut. The shieldmaiden _politely_ discussed with him why she should have been informed of the change in plan. In Hiccup’s opinion, that had been more terrifying than facing all those Berserkers and the Screaming Death combined.

When the chief’s son had been released by the commander, he was abruptly pulled towards the celebrating crowd and forced to dance with a number of different people, both young and old. He felt very exposed as the girls his age – and a little bit older – expressed their gratitude for his heroic deeds and tried to give him a kiss. Some even offered to go a bit further – inviting him to their huts – if he desired. Each time, he was saved from answering as another girl would pull him away which he was eternal grateful for up until they too tried to kiss him. Another yank had him being pulled out of a twenty summers old woman who was intent on dragging him to her hut despite his stuttering protests and sinking his feet into the ground.

“Oh thank Odin,” Hiccup sighed when he was faced by his newest savor and better yet, it turned out to be Astrid. “You’re a god’s sent.”

Astrid chuckled and shook her head. “More of a Bucket sent, he abandoned me to dance with Phelgma.”

The auburn hair teen looked over to see the bucket-wearing Viking had indeed taken to swinging the lovely dark haired shieldmaiden around the dancefloor. Her prior partner – Mulch – didn’t look to happy at being kicked to the curb, but Phelgma was laughing and enjoying herself immensely. A few of the other Vikings had even stopped to watch the intricate dancing lead by Bucket. Clapping and hollering could be heard as the blond Viking led the woman around, dipping and turning her every few steps.

“I didn’t know Bucket could dance that well,” the auburn haired teenager remarked as he spun Astrid around to keep the dancing couple in sight. However, due to his distracted state he ended up bumping into the person behind him. Turning around he found he had ran into Snuffnut who was dancing in a circle with Terrorthi and Jackson.

“Sorry,” the child said which Hiccup acknowledged but his eyes were focused on the Druid. His usual cloak was nowhere to be seen along with his arm bracer and arm warmer to keep them from rubbing off the salves which decorated his arms and was plastered thickly around his wrists barely hiding the dark bruises. Jackson’s lip was still raw and swollen, but the blood had been washed away along with the grime and the dirt from his face. He still had Hiccup’s shield, but it was strapped to his back with the leather band the Druid had made for the shield all those months ago.

“How are you feeling Jackson?” Astrid asked, letting go of her dancing partner and turning to face the Druid as the two children broke hands with him and took a step to his side.

“Not much of anything. Myror forced some weird elixir down my throat and told me not to go to sleep until after sunset,” Jackson made a face as he remembered having to drink down the elixir. “Terrorthi and Snuffnut have volunteered to keep me awake until then.”

“Uh-huh. Dancing is fun and no one falls asleep while they dance,” Snuffnut nodded his head, blue eyes looking up to make sure there was no sign of sleep on the brunet’s face.

“And it makes you hungry too. Dad said Jackson had to eat something too, but he hasn’t,” Terrorthi chimed in as Periwinkle jumped off the horn of her helmet and flew over to land on Hiccup’s shoulder. The little Dewdrop Faerie pulled discreetly at the Night Fury rider’s ear and then pointed to Jackson, specifically, his free hand which was trembling as it opened and closed, trying to grasp at something which wasn’t there.

The Dragon Rider opened his mouth to say something, but the noise died down and everyone was looking towards Finn Hofferson. The tall blond Viking had one arm wrapped around Gobber’s neck while the other one held his hook and he was kissing the daylights out of the man. Just as quickly as it had become quiet, the noise started up again as the twins began to hoot and hollered followed by the rest of the village.

“What just happened?” Snuffnut asked, trying to stand on his tiptoes to see but neither he nor Terrorithi could see a thing above the tall Vikings surrounding them.

“I’m not sure,” Jackson replied, tilting his head to the side. “Gobber gave Finn an axe and then Finn kissed him.”

“An axe?” Astrid all but squealed in delight, biting her bottom lip as she bouncing up and down on her feet. The young shieldmaiden at Jackson’s side repeated the action while the other Dragon Rider Trainee tried not to look too interested but clearly wanted to see for himself as well. “I’m going to go get a look.”

“I wanna see too,” Terrorthi whined quietly while Snuffnut shook his head in agreement before both of them looking at the Druid guiltily.

“Go on, I’ll be fine by myself,” the brunet ushered the children after the already fleeing blonde Dragon Rider who was squeezing her way through the thicket of bodies and towards her uncle.

“And I’ll make sure he gets something to eat,” Hiccup chimed in; hoping the heat in his cheeks wasn’t noticeable to anyone but himself.

The little girl eyed him as seriously as someone her age could, which wasn’t at all but it looked cute. “And he doesn’t sleep?”

“And doesn’t sleep,” the Dragon Rider confirmed with a nod of his head.

“Okay,” Snuffnut agreed, already dragging the other Dragon Rider Trainee after Astrid.

“You know you don’t have to do that?” Jackson asked when the two children were out of hearing range.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to,” Hiccup replied as he took the brunet’s hand and lead the two out of the crowd. He didn’t miss the way Jackson looked at him with wonder and – dare he say it? – a warm fondness in his eyes, which just sent the Dragon Rider’s heart racing. Together the two were able to make it out of the crowd, but not without one last look back at the celebrating going on behind them.

Jackson’s curious gaze immediately landed on the group now gathered around Finn and Gobber as they took center stage to dance. They weren’t as graceful or even as stunning to watch as Bucket and Phelgma had been, but it was still something else. The blacksmith dancing to the music much better than Finn was hobbling along, making it seem he had the peg leg and not the other way around. However, it was the laughter and the smiles coming from the two Vikings which had everyone watching all because Gobber gave Finn an axe.

“I don’t get it,” the brunet final said, his curiosity grabbing at frayed ends even as he tried to figure out why the axe held such significance.

“Get what?” Hiccup asked as the Druid turned his head forward. The auburn haired teen did not let go of Jackson’s hand as he pulled them in another direction. The brunet didn’t seem to notice too wrapped up in his thoughts and allowed the Dragon Rider to lead him along.

“Why is everyone so wound up over an axe?” Jackson asked half way realizing they had now left the celebration and were headed back into the village.

Hiccup almost stopped, but ended up stumbling over his mechanical leg before regaining his footing. The heat which had faded away coming back full force and if it weren’t for the fact Jackson wasn’t facing him, the Viking knew the brunet would have commented on the blush staining his cheeks.

“Ahhh, it’s… uhmmm… it’s not the axe itself,” the teenager stuttered using his free hand to rub the back of his neck and accidently hit Periwinkle. The little fae gave out an angry chime and another tug at his ear before flying off back towards the festivities. “It’s more that the axe is a courting gift. It’s a tradition on Berk to give a weapon – usual ornate with their crest on it – to show you’re interested.”

“A courting gift?” the Druid questioned, amber eyes looking at Hiccup unwavering which had the older teen gulping down his heart that suddenly jumped into his throat. He was saved when Jackson looked away on his own accord with a thoughtful. “So Astrid was able to get them together without our help?”

“Actually, it wasn’t even Astrid’s doing but the Eel Pox’s fever,” the chief’s son explained as he opened the door to his hut. “Gobber apparently kissed Finn in his delirious state.”

“Really?” Jackson asked in surprise as he walked into the hut, finally letting go of Hiccup’s hand and headed straight for the kitchen area. He began looking through the woven baskets stores of food and ended up pulling out some preserved mutton from one of them along with some parsnips, onions, and the dried fava beans Stoick favored. “Did I do anything crazy in my delirious state?"

“Other than predicted a massive out of season snowstorm, you mostly mumbled in your foreign tongue,” Hiccup said as he tended to the hearth, putting a few more log on the fire. He then took the pot of dried fava beans filled with water Jackson had already prepared and put it over the fire.

The Druid stopped chopping the onions – whipping the tears from his eyes – and looking up. “I predicted a snowstorm?”

“Yeah, ya did,” the auburn haired teen confirmed as Jackson finished cutting up the rest of the onions and parsnips. He then put the chopped onions and parsnips into a mortar and added a few herbs and spices before grounding the mixture together with the pedestal and putting the resulting paste on the mutton.

“Huh, I didn’t know that. Why didn’t anyone ever tell me?” the burnet asked, putting the meat into a pot with a little water in the bottom and placing the lid on top. He walked over to the fire and nestled the pot into the coals very carefully.

“We thought you already knew,” Hiccup shrugged, watching as Jackson’s fingers started to twitch again without anything to do.

“Nope, didn’t know. It’s news to me,” the Druid shrugged as he began rummaging around for some clean bowls and utensils. When he couldn’t find any, Jackson went around plucking up all the dirty dishes and began to wash them.

“Well if it helps, because of your prediction we were properly prepared for the out of season snowstorm,” the Dragon Rider offered to console the younger teen.

A thump coming from the roof had Hiccup glancing at the stairs – already knowing it was Toothless jumping on to the roof and climbing through the large window up in his room – but the sound had the brunet dropping the knife he was cleaning and whirling around, grabbing at nothing. When he only saw the Viking staring at him, Jackson slumped back. His fingers trembling as he wrapped them around his arms to try and cease the tremors. The action smeared some of the salve on his upper arms and wrists.

“Jackson, are you alright?” Hiccup asked taking a step forward only to stop, thinking better of it.

“I-I’d feel better if I had my staff,” Jackson confided, hanging his head. The Viking grimaced thinking about the two halves of said staff currently resting up in his room. He had picked up the pieces in the after math of everything and had stored them away for safe keeping. At one point, he had used a strip of white cloth to join the two ends together but he knew it wouldn’t do much good.

“Wait right here,” the auburn haired teenager ordered before heading upstairs, passing Toothless as he went up and looked around the room.

He found the staff where he had left it on his workbench, the white cloth wrapped around the break keeping the pieces together. However, also wrapped around the staff were vines coming from the Night Fury Lily which he had pinned up with his blueprints months previous and had yet to die. It had never grown either so he was taken back to see the vines had crept down the wall and reached out across the desk’s surface. Oddly enough, the vines were only wrapped around the staff over top of the cloth where it had been snapped in two.

Not thinking there would be any harm in it – which there wasn’t – Hiccup reached out and grabbed hold of the staff right below the vines. He was surprised when his hand landed on the gnarled piece of wood, the vines disintegrated into ash, glittering slightly before being swept away by the wind. Examining the staff, the inventor in him could find no fault in it. The crook wasn’t flimsy and likely to come apart as it had been when he had first messed with the two pieces, trying to fix what Dagur had broken. It was almost like the staff had never been snapped, but to be on the safe side, he rewrapped the white cloth around the length of the wood and headed back downstairs.

There, Hiccup found Jackson sitting on the floor and petting Toothless who was emitting his purr like growl, comforting the unusually skittish teenager. The Druid looked up and smiled when he saw him, his smile brightened upon locating his staff in the Dragon Rider’s hand. Jackson quickly scrambled to his feet and made it to the auburn haired Viking’s side, though Hiccup didn’t hand the gnarled piece of wood over right away.

“Ah, there’s something you should know Jackson. Dagur snapped your staff,” the Dragon Rider explained presenting the staff to show the white cloth wrapped around the middle of its length. “I tried my best to fix it, but it might not be as sturdy as it once was.”

Jackson took the crook with a smile, the trembling in his hands creasing almost instantly when he held the piece of wood once more. “Don’t worry. It has happened before. Thank you for fixing it.”

Hiccup opened and closed his mouth, not sure how to respond to that. He’d watched the brunet put the gnarled piece of wood through its paces. Witnessing Jackson put all his weight on the staff on more than one occasion and use it in various ways which put great stress on the wood. Yet, during all of this, the staff had already been broken once before? How was it possible that it stood up to such abuse?

“Magic,” the Druid said, finishing twirling the staff around his fingers and began checking the crystal and the dragon scale – which had miraculously stayed attached – for any damage.

“What?” the Dragon Rider was startled out of his thoughts causing the brunet to laugh.

“It was fixed by magic last time,” Jackson clarified looking at the auburn haired teen, which made the Viking realize he had been pondering out loud and hadn’t realized it. For a moment, he thought the Druid took notice of the blush spreading across his cheeks as a look crossed his slightly pale face before Jackson reached around and took the shield off of his back with one hand. His other hand refused to let go of his staff after not having it for so long as he handed the Gronckle Iron shield to Hiccup. “Here. I believe this is yours.”

“I though you said finder’s keeper’s,” the teenager teased taking his shield back as Jackson turned back to the food preparations, checking on the beans and adding them to the mutton.

“Nah, it’s yours. No matter how cool and useful it is. Besides, I have my staff back and without that, you don’t have anything save for Toothless,” the Druid said using his staff to pull a woven basket over and spilling the contents of fish. The Night Fury was immediately upon the fish, happily lapping up his dinner.

“I appreciate that,” Hiccup said as he put the shield to the side and place the clean dishes on the table as Jackson pulled the pot off the fire. He dished the food out on both plates while the Viking got them each a mug of water.

Sitting at the table the two had an animated conversation about the Whispering Death cyclone and the Screaming Death. Yet, the chief’s son noticed how Jackson skirted around the subject of what had happened to him on the island. When he did get them on the topic indirectly, the Druid subtle changed it and he hadn’t even realized the subject changed again and by the time Hiccup did realize the distraction, they had finished their meal.

As they were cleaning the dishes together, the chief’s son finally built up the nerve to come straight out and ask. “What did Dagur do?”

Jackson set aside the bowl he had been cleaning and grabbed hold of the staff which had been propped up against his own body. The water had washed away some of the salve around his wrists causing the blacken bruises and raw skin to stand out even more. A blank look crossed his face as amber eyes looked down and slender hands tightened around the staff, turning his knuckles white.

Finally, in a small voice, the younger teen – who looked so much younger and smaller at the moment that it made the Viking’s heartbreak – answered the question. “He tried to kiss me.”

“What?” Hiccup whispered out just as softly, not knowing how to react. On one hand he was scared for Jackson because of Dagur’s unhealthy infatuation with the brunet. On the other hand, he was enraged at Dagur for daring to kiss Berk’s Druid.

“He didn’t succeed, but I can’t stop reliving the moment over and over again in my head,” the younger teenager went on to explain, leaning back against the empty table. Toothless whining softly and butting his head against the brunet’s side, but he didn’t react. He just kept talking in the quiet voice which didn’t belong to the happy and energetic Jackson Hiccup had come to know. “He would have stolen my first kiss. I know that sounds stupid, but Dagur could have been my first kiss and that thought just disgusts me.”

“First kiss?” the Dragon Rider squeaked, thoughts spiraling out of control. Jackson was almost fifteen winters old and he had never been kissed? Even Hiccup had gotten his first kiss when he was fourteen summers old and he was the ultimate hiccup.  

Before he could even realize what he was doing, Hiccup leaned up and kissed the flustered teen. It was simple, just a press of lips together, chastise and pure. However, it had the brunet frozen beneath him and the auburn haired Viking pulled away blushing.

“There, now you had your first kiss and it wasn’t Dagur,” the chief’s son smiled sheepishly. Jackson did nothing more than open and close his mouth. For the first time since Hiccup had known the Druid, he was speechless.

Finally, Jackson found his voice. “I-I got to go.”

With that, the brunet fled from the hut leaving Hiccup disappointed in himself and at Jackson’s reaction. He had thought the Druid wouldn’t have a problem with him since he didn’t have a problem with Finn and Gobber. However, it looked like while Jackson was okay with other of the same gender courting, he didn’t want to be one of those couples.

Sighing, Hiccup finished up doing the dishes and headed to bed in disappointment. The sounds of celebrating drifting into his hut made his already heavy heart throb brokenly with ever beat of the rhythm.

The next morning, the teenaged Dragon Rider woke up. It was a slow and sluggish process which he fought the whole way, wanting to go back to sleep. He didn’t want to deal with the world at all. Not right now at least, but he didn’t get his wish as vivid green eyes blinked open. The first thing he saw through sleep filled eyes was a sheathed dagger resting innocently on the workbench.

Looking at it, he recognized it as Jackson’s one and only attempted at taking a stab at forging. It was rather simple in design with soft brown leather used for the handle; the metal was of good quality and it had turned out rather well for the Druid’s first time. Nevertheless, Jackson refused to make anything else, citing his lack of training and stuck to the leather work he knew and continued to create the bindings for whatever weapon Hiccup or Gobber handed him.

Sighing, vivid green eyes drifted away from the sheathed dagger in black leather casing and grabbed his metal leg. He fiddled with attaching it before sitting back up, only to have the dagger drop in his lap.

“What the? Sharptshot?” Hiccup yelped, looking up to find the green Terrible Terror flying above him.

The little dragon gave out a chirp and circled one more time before landing on the back of his chair. He tilted his head to the side and chirruped again, looking pointedly at the dagger. It was then the Dragon Rider realized that the dagger shouldn’t have been in his room. It hadn’t been in his room last night when he went to bed. Another squawk from Sharpshot had Hiccup picking up the dagger by the sheath, only for it to slide out. He fumbled with the blade and ended up dropping it.

Plucking the dagger out of his lap, Hiccup intended to sheath it and return the blade back to Jackson since his Terrible Terror had apparently stolen it sometime during the night. Yet the movement caused the morning light to catch the metal at just the right angle to illuminate something near the hilt of the blade. Holding it up to examine the anomaly, green eyes had to squint as he shifted the dagger again to reveal an iridescent patch.

It took him a moment, but the chief’s son was able to make out the small rounded horned skull with a set of three teeth on both the top and lower jaw. The very symbol on Toothless’s tailfin which could have been a crest if one didn’t know any better. Moreover, Jackson didn’t know any better. It wasn’t ornate and the crest was discreet, but the intention was still there; a weapon with a crest on it.

He needed to go find Jackson.

“Hiccup!” his father called out.

After he dealt with his father.

“Coming,” Hiccup called back, hurrying to get dressed – though he did take an extra minute to attach the sheathed dagger to his belt carefully – before bounding downstairs with Toothless and Sharpshot on his heels.

* * *

Dealing with his father took longer than Hiccup had imagined seeing as his father brought him along on his rounds of the village. They had stopped and talked to a few people, gave their condolences to the families who had lost someone to the Berserkers’ invasion and listened to a few people who had issues needing to be addressed. They did what they could, but there were just some things which couldn’t be accomplished in one sitting, like the fact that one of the families lost their hut to the invasions or another family had their stores for winter destroyed. Those were thing which they needed time for arrangements to be made and Vikings weren’t known for their patience, so those cases took extra-long.

Now, both father and son stood on the cliffs overlooking the ocean. Sharpshot occupying Hiccup’s shoulder while Nyx and Fury – having picked them up earlier on their journey around the village – occupied one of his father’s shoulders each.

“You know, son, you're gonna be a great chief someday. One of the best, I'd wager,” Stoick said suddenly, breaking the silence that had fallen over them when his father had invited him on a walk around Berk.

Hiccup felt blindsided by the comment but that didn’t keep his sarcasm from surfacing as he nervously chuckled. “Yeah. If the last few days are any indication of what it's like to be chief, I'd just as soon leave that to you.”

It was the gods’ honest truth too. The Head of the Dragon Training Academy didn’t think he’d ever be ready to take on the role of chief. His father was the best chief the Hairy Hooligan Tribe had ever known and he would have large boots to fill when it was time for Stoick to stepdown. Hiccup didn’t think he could do it. Being chief scarred him more than anything else, because he just wasn’t ready. Not yet, and maybe not ever.

“Being chief is hard, but it is easier if you have someone by your side,” Stoick went on. “Your mother was that someone for me. Jackson just might be that someone for you. If you give him the chance.”

If it wasn’t for Toothless grabbing on to the back of his vest by his teeth, the teenage Viking would have gone over the edge. “You know?”

“Hiccup, I’m your father and the chief. I’m not blind,” the man scoffed, the corners of his mustache twitching upwards. “And Jackson isn’t a bad choice; I don’t think I could handle it if you had a crush on Tuffnut. I have too many Thorstons to deal with already and if they became part of our family, I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

“I don’t think I would be able to handle it either,” Hiccup shuddered, trying not to think of the idea of him with Tuffnut which wasn’t all that effective and he ended up grimacing at the image in his mind. Toothless seemed to agree, seeing how the Night Fury was laying down and scratching at his head, trying to rid himself of the thought as well.

“I just wanted to let you know, I’ll support you in whatever decision you make. You’re my son Hiccup, and nothing will change that,” his father reassured him, resting a hand on the Dragon Rider’s shoulder.

“Thanks Dad, that means a lot to me,” the teenager sighed as if a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders and it had been. He had been petrified for what he felt for Jackson, yet he had been absolutely terrified of telling his father. To know the man didn’t care and would love him either way was a huge relief.

“I just want you to be happy Hiccup,” Stoick smiled down at his son. A smile formed on his lips as his fingers drum against the hilt of the dagger. Now that he’d talked with his father, he need to speak with Jackson.   First, he had to track down the illusive Druid.

Before he could politely excuse himself to find the brunet, a blazing dragon shot by the father and son, his rider screaming. “Retreat! Retreat! Dogfight! Hookfang! Ow! Ow, ow, ow, ow. It burns! It burns! It burns…

Three more dragons shot passed, following Snotlout and Hookfang, Astrid slowing down and stopping just a few dozen yards beyond the cliff. “Hiccup? We need you.”

Mere moments after the words left her lips, Gobber came hobbling up behind them gasping for breath. “Stoick, Silent Sven just broke his silence! And you are not going to like what he has to say.”

The two Haddocks looked at each other before Stoick, shook his head and motioned to the members of the Dragon Training Academy. “Go on, it looks like we both have our own chiefing to do.”

Hiccup nodded his head and mounted Toothless. “Come on, Bud.”


	48. Rebuilding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Telidina: Yes, they finally - FINALLY - kissed and Gobber and Finn got to have their little moment too. To know what Jack was thinking, stay calm and read on.
> 
> Mihas: As usual Mihas, you encourage me onwards, especially with saying how true to character Stoick and Hiccup's chat was, which was one of the things I was having trouble writing in the last chapter. It made all that deleting and rewriting worth it.
> 
> Midnight_Love_Songs: I'll send help in the form of the next chapter, here, go read and stop dying please.
> 
> Bronwyn: Ahh, you made my heart melt. Thank you!
> 
> TwoOriginalCharacters: Glad to have you comment, better late than never to the comment party. You had me smiling with thinking some of my OCs were actually part of HTTYD, especially since I really don't like making up OCs because I think they tend not to have any real depth to them.

Hiccup wanted to scream.

Scratch that.

Hiccup did scream.

Toothless showed his displeasure by flattening his ear-plates against his head. Sharpshot, not pleased with the sound either, flew off of the Viking’s shoulder to fly wing to wing with the Night Fury as far away from the frustrated teenager as possible.

“Where is he?” the Dragon Rider grumbled as he leaned to the right and Toothless followed suit. He had wanted to find Jackson ever since discovering the dagger on his workbench in the morning. However, his father had wanted his assistance and then Snotlout had managed to get into a dogfight with the three youngest Dragon Trainees and had lost horrible. At least they had managed to get Hookfang back on the ground and throw Snotlout into a water trough to douse the flames burning away the Monstrous Nightmare rider’s pants because no one wanted to see a pantless Snotlout. No one.

Afterwards, he had been roped into giving the trainees a lesson in proper dogfight etiquette with the Dragon Riders demonstrating before he sent the younger generation off. He had every intention of finding Jackson after that, but Gobber had cornered in and before he knew it, Hiccup was helping in mentor at the forge. More specifically, the young inventor was coerced into designing a new system to prevent the stall from burning down now Grump was keeping the forge from dying but ended up starting a number of fires in the process.

Hiccup had believed himself free to go looking for the Druid in the village only for a few Vikings to stop him. Some wanted to talk and congratulate him on rescuing the chief, singing his praises and cajoling him into sharing his side of the rapidly growing tale of his heroics. A few others had pull him aside in hopes of convincing him to stay for supper with their very pretty daughters playing host. Daughters, who up until he’d trained a Night Fury, wouldn’t want anything to do with a fishbone like him. Then there were the well-wishers asking about his father and handing him all sorts of goodies to deliver to help the chief recover after such a trying ordeal.

Finally – _finally!_ – he had gotten free only to find out Jackson wasn’t even in the village. Periwinkle – the ever growing representative of the fae that she was becoming – informed him of the fact before flying off to rejoin the group of Wyldfae bartering with Gothi over herbs and shiny baubles. Which was why Hiccup was now flying hopelessly around Berk, looking for any sign of the brunet and coming up empty.

Grumbling, the irritated Dragon Rider took another round of the island and with still no sign of the Druid, he admitted defeat. Not wanting to return to the village just yet, he headed to the cove where Toothless landed close to the water’s edge. Hiccup slowly unhooked his harness, fumbling as he watched Sharpshot take up residence in the trees to chirp a melancholy tune, and climbed off listlessly. The Night Fury, on the other hand, waited until his rider was on barely steady on his own feet before bounding over to the lake and peering over the edge.

Toothless waited, still as a statue, for the right time and without any warning, fully submerged his head into the water. A moment later he reeled back, splashing water everywhere yet he made a pleased sound around the fish in his mouth. Proudly, the dragon trotted over to Hiccup to showed him his catch only to have the tail of the fish whip out and smack the Night Fury in the face. Startled, Toothless dropped his catch which flailed back into the waters and the teenager had to stifle his laughter.

“Better luck next time, Bud,” the Viking consoled when the dragon gave him a dejected look which soon turned into glared at Hiccup’s comment. With a huff, Toothless went back to the side of the lake and tried again. This time he was not so lucky.

The Dragon Rider left him to it, only bothering the dragon long enough to pull his notebook out of the saddlebag and made himself comfortable on one of the rocks. With the new Dragon Trainees and their dragons, the Academy stalls weren’t cutting it and he had some ideas to build stables under Berk, using the previous Whispering Death tunnels as a foundation and expanding where necessary.   He also added in some general designs to improve the village to better suit dragons and villagers alike.

“Try adding more colors.”

Hiccup would like to say he didn’t startle, letting out a shout or flail about, or even fumbled with his notebook. However, that would have been a complete lie. Thank Odin it was only Jackson leaning on his staff looking over the older teen’s shoulder or else he’d never live it down.

“Jackson!” the auburn haired teenager sighed as his heart slowed down from his shock only to start pounding rapidly again when his mind realized _who_ exactly was standing behind him. “ _Jackson!_ ”  

Said Druid tilted his head and looked at him, a little confused at the change in tone. “Hiccup.”

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” the auburn haired teenager said, closing his notebook – quickly jotting down a note to add more color – while the brunet took a seat next to him.

“You were looking for me?” Hiccup was met with a puzzled look. “Did I forget about an Academy meeting?”

“No, no you didn’t. I wanted to talk with you,” he tried to reassure Jackson, a little unsure what he was going to say. However, when vivid green eyes drifted down and trailed over the dagger clipped to his belt though, the same courage he felt when facing the Red Death welled up inside of him. “Thank you for the dagger.”

The Viking looked up in time to see Jackson turn his head up to the sky, a light red color dusting his cheek which made the burnet look adorable. “I…uh…I didn’t think you’d want a big weapon or anything and I…uh, remembered you said the dagger was nice, even if you were just trying to be nice…. And, I got it right, right? The weapon and the crest?”

“Yeah, you did,” he nodded, watching as amber colored eyes darted to look at him out of the corner of his eyes before the Druid ducked his head. “It’s perfect.”

“Sorry I ran out on you last night,” Jackson mumbled after a moment of silence.

“It’s okay,” Hiccup consoled but the Druid wasn’t taking the easy way out.

“No it isn’t,” brown locks swung back and for before Jackson looked directly into vivid green eyes, pleading the other teen to understand. “I…haven’t had anyone interested in me like _that_ except for _Dagur_ ,” the name was spit out, “and when he tried to kiss me, I head-butted him in the nose. So when you kissed me, I didn’t know how to react and I…uh…kinda freaked out.”

“So you’re saying that you freaked out when I kissed you because you like me?” Hiccup asked – not trying to even hide the giant grin spreading across his face – a teasing note in his voice.

The brunet just scowled at him. “Have I misunderstood the meaning behind giving you a dagger then?”

“No, you haven’t,” the Viking said and swooped in, giving the taller teen a quick kiss on the lips before pulling away to see the bright red flush cross Jackson’s cheeks. “Because I like you too.”

“Good then, no misunderstandings to be had,” Jackson mumbled, trying for normalcy but their conversation was far from normal for either of them. The blush was still there as he fought to keep his voice steady and even, but couldn’t accomplish such a small thing at the moment. “So, can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Hiccup immediately answered and the brunet slowly, carefully leaned in, blushing redder by the second.

Unlike the other kisses which Hiccup had initialed, both parties participated. Jackson leaned his head to the side giving better access gently pressed his lips against the auburn haired Viking. The Dragon Rider slowly moved forward, pressing a bit harder into the kiss and moved his lips, tasting the cool sweet tang with which was purely Jackson. Finally, the two broke apart. Both blushing but wearing matching smiles.

The moment was ruined when Toothless barreled into the two, knocking them both over and licking Jackson. The Night Fury was thrilled Jackson was there because his rider had been in a sour mood without the Druid around. Sharpshot seemed to agree too, because his singing went from melancholy chirps to jubilant thrills.

“Gah!” Jackson screeched, trying to push the large dragon off of him, laughing all the while. Hiccup was able to squirm out from underneath Toothless’s deadweight and roll out of the way. Seeing the other was free, the brunet reached out, begging through peals of laughter for help. “Hiccup! Save me!”

The Head of the Dragon Training Academy was about to call off the Night Fury, but a thought had him stopping and a grin forming on his face. “Not a chance.”

“What?!” the younger teenager squawked trying to block his face from being drenched in the dragon’s saliva and failing miserably. “ _Hiccup_!”

“I’ll call him off, but on one condition,” the Viking folded his arms over his chest trying to look like he was the one in charge.

“A condition, huh?” the Druid muttered, however, it didn’t seem like he was scared, but up for a challenge. By the gleam in his eyes, Hiccup thought he might have lost the upper hand, especially when Jackson whispered something to Toothless and the dragon stopped licking him. His ear-plates flickering and a purring growl came from the dragon. “Get him Toothless.”

* * *

“That was totally uncalled for,” Hiccup grumbled as they walked through the forest and towards the village dripping wet.

“You started it,” Jackson answered with a big grin, though the slight blush on his cheeks had the auburn haired teenager smirking which only made the Druid blush harder. He fully deserved the whack he received from the gnarled piece of wood. “So now that we’ve wasted most of the day and are soaking wet, what are we going to do?”

“First, I suggest we change clothing,” the Dragon Rider said, plucking at his wet vest and shivered as a breeze passed by them.

Toothless tilted his head to the side and let out a plasma blast dangerously close to the two teenagers. When the blast went off, it was small but sent a wave of heat outwards causing the majority of the water still clinging to their clothing to evaporated.

“Thanks Bud,” the sarcasm was dripped off of each word which had the Night Fury’s ear-plates perking up. A chortling sound filled the air followed by the silvery laughs of Jackson.

“Now that changing clothing has become moot, what’s next on the list of things to do?” Jackson asked, twirling his staff around in his fingers.

“Well-” Hiccup started only to be cutoff by a grumbling sound coming from the younger teenager. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Dinner at your house,” the chief’s son refrained from slamming his face into his hand, but it was a near thing. “Hey, don’t give me that look, I was busy…and…um…”

“You forgot? Again?” Hiccup deadpanned wondering how many times they had been over this and how many more times they would continue to do so in the future. “Please tell me you at least sleep.”

“Nightmares kept me up,” Jackson shrugged his shoulders indifferently but the older teenager instantly knew the brunet had been plagued by night terrors regarding his time with Dagur on Outcast Island. “And some personal stuff regarding a certain Dragon Rider – who shall go unmentioned – that I had left due to a giant misconception and had to figure out a way to make it up to him while expressing my own feelings,” the last part was said with a coy smile on his face which had said Dragon Rider blushing fiercely.

“Well, I think whoever this extremely lucky Dragon Rider is, he is very grateful for you clearing up the misconception but he would also very much appreciate if you would remember to eat once in a while.”

“Well,” the Druid mimicked Hiccup’s tone, “as I said, I was busy with a mortal dilemma and since I didn’t want to bother Gobber and Finn on how I should fix things, I went to Bucket for help. We talked some until Mulch came in complaining about how some of the families’ winter stores had been destroyed in the attack and they needed to head out to do some fishing. Bucket proceeded to point out it was too late in the season for them to catch much. So I thought I would see if there was any way I could help.

“Remember the hamadryad, the one you met?” Jackson asked and Hiccup nodded his head. “Well, she gave me some locations of a few bears and boars not expected to make it through the winter, in return she asked if I could clear away some of the burn logs hindering her growth. Couldn’t do much by myself so I went to the Craft Guild to recruit some help. Typhan agreed to help clear the lumber with Firefang and Gruffnut, having been eavesdropping on our conversation, volunteered to do the hunting on the condition he would get first pick of the hides off anything caught and after thinking about of it, it wasn’t asking too much.

“So, between negotiating with various people and bribing a certain Terrible Terror to help me out this morning, I had no real time to eat,” the brunet finished and Hiccup could only gape at him. “What? I told you I’m a Jack of All Trades. Convincing others to help do my _bidding_ is just one of my many talents,” Jackson teased waving his staff about in an exaggerated gesture when he said bidding, almost hitting Toothless in the process. The dragon ducked in time to avoid being struck by the gnarled piece of wood and glared at the Druid who shot back an apologetic smile in return.

Rolling his eyes, the Dragon Rider shook his head. “Come on then _Jack_ , let’s go get you something to eat at the Great Hall.”

Jackson uncharacteristically stumbled over a rock but quickly caught his himself. The dumbfounded look on the brunet’s face quickly morphed into a huge smile and for whatever reason – not that Hiccup was complaining, not one bit – the Druid darted over, giving the Viking a quick peck on the lips.

“Lead onward then, _Hiccup_.”

* * *

Toothless looked at the two and snorted, shaking his head at his rider’s behavior. The dragon didn’t understand why Hiccup was so awkward around a potential mate. He had done okay so far – even did that weird thing he had seen other humans do with their maws, pressing them together which seemed like a human mating ritual – but he needed to display more. His rider had to show the one whose scent smelled so much like the winds that he was strong and able mate – or in his rider’s case, clever and resourceful – to demonstrate what a good protector and provider he could be.

The wind-scented one had already shown them he wasn’t weak and a capable defender. Not to mention powerful, being able to drive away the foul-smelling creatures living inside the solid waters and he had saved Toothless in the process despite them being potential adversaries.  The dragon was still slightly ashamed of his actions concerning the wind-scent one in the earlier days but the human had shown no additional negativity towards him. It was like his rider had been in the days after their first meeting which further proved in Toothless’s mind what a good mate the wind-scented one would be for his rider. Best of all, the wind-scented one fit in with the other members of his rider’s pack and could keep the Monstrous Nightmare’s rider – who was always undermining Hiccup’s authority – inline and pacified.

Seeing his rider needed a little help, Toothless took it upon himself to provide a nudge to assist things along. The nudge was almost a bit more literal in the sense the Night Fury’s tail had Jackson tripping forward and it was only Hiccup’s hand lashing out, catching him around his arm, which kept the wind-scented one from falling. It wasn’t much, but enough to display his rider’s perceptiveness and protective qualities which appeased Toothless. Especially when the wind-scented one let the hand that caught him to intertwine with his own, allowing their scents to mingle to a point that it let any other potential suitors know his rider already had a claim and they would need to go through him and Toothless first.

* * *

“So, what have you done today, if you don’t mind me asking?” the brunet asked as he was forced to walk a little closer to Hiccup since the Night Fury on his other side was leaning up against him.

The Dragon Rider shrugged his shoulders and filled Jackson in on what he had done thus far, which wasn’t much compared to the brunet. Though by the time he was finished, they had reached the relatively empty Great Hall. Norbert was happy to hand each of them a bowl of gruel, sprouting off something about it still being warm having just come off the hearth despite it being stone cold. Before Hiccup could comment on the fallacy of that statement, the Druid was already pulling them over to a table with an orb of yellow light flickering overhead.

“Hi Iridessa, how are you today?” Jackson greeted the little fae as they sat down and Toothless peaked over the table, giving his own coo of greeting. The dark skinned Dewdrop Faerie looked up and let out a few weak chimes, her lights flickering before she flew down on the table. Hiccup could only watch as the burnet nodded his head, seemingly able to understand what the different rings and tinkering sounds meant. “I see, how about we make a trade then? You warm up our bowls and I’ll share my food with you.”

Iridessa jumped up into the air with a thrill, nodding her head in agreement. She proceeded to fly over the Druid’s bowl first and held out her hand. Green eyes watched in utter fascination as a brighter ray of light surrounded her hands before a beam shot out and steam soon began to rise from the gruel. It was the second time he had seen any of the fae perform blatant magic other than the obvious orbs of light they produced while flying.   The first being Periwinkle’s frost manipulation and Hiccup was starting to wonder what else the deceptively small Dewdrop Faeries were capable of.

He pushed the thoughts to the side and made a grab for his own bowl of food when Iridessa was finished warming it up. Before he could pull it towards him, Jackson used the hook of his staff to snatched the bowl away, sliding it next to his own. Reaching into his back pouch, the brunet produced a rolled up piece of cloth held close with some twine. Undoing the cloth revealed little pouches running across the length that nimble fingers plucked opened a few and pulled out herbs and spices which were sprinkled over the two bowls.

“Here, it should taste better now,” Jackson pushed the gruel back, setting his staff to rest up against the table, and put away the rolled up cloth to his pouch. His hand returned to the table with the small summoning rowan bowl which he filled with some of his own gruel and handed it to Iridessa. The fae chimed loudly as she took the offered food and sped off up into the intricate decorative carved raftered holding up the Great Hall’s ceiling.

“Thanks,” Hiccup took the bowl as vivid green eyes tracked Iridessa’s flight along with the half a dozen or so other Wyldfae who appeared out of various places in the hall and proceeded to chase after the yellow orb of light with pleading chimes. Turning his attention back to his own meal, the Dragon Rider picked up his spoon and took a small bite. It was flavorful but tough, definitely better than the gruel usually was but nowhere near as good as Jackson’s cooking. “How is it that you can make everything taste better?”

Amber eyes blinked a few times before the brunet swallowed his food. “I just know what herbs and spices will work. My mom was exceptional at making potions and she tried to teach me. In the process, I learned all about the different ingredients and their properties. Sadly, I didn’t inherit her skill at potions. Conceptually, I know what to do to make a potion, but I just can’t make `em right. They usually explode, so I gave up on being a potioneer. It was only thanks to Gabe – who was kinda like my mentor slash best friend in Hawthorne, where I grew up – that I learned how to apply my knowledge of potions to the concept of cooking, which paid off in the long run.”

“I’ll say,” the Viking agreed taking another bite of the gruel. “This is good.”

“I don’t know what you’re eating, but if it’s the gruel than you and me needed to have a serious talk about your definition of good,” Astrid said dropping her bowl of gruel down on the table with a clatter and took the seat next to Jackson.

“Hey Astrid,” Jackson nodded his head in her direction, absentmindedly reaching out and scratching Toothless beneath the chin when the dragon bumped his head against his side.

“Jackson,” the shieldmaiden nodded back before turning her attention to the Viking across the table. “So what are you eating, Hiccup?”

“The gruel,” he answered watching as the brunet retrieved the cloth of many pockets from his pouch once more and pulled out the same herbs and spices he added to their food. Since blue eyes were fixed on him, Astrid never noticed the teen sitting next to her drop the extra ingredients into her bowl giving the otherwise tasteless gruel flavor it shouldn’t have and waved his hand above the bowl, muttering some foreign words that had steam rising from the gruel. “Try it.”

The shieldmaiden gave him a doubtful looked and glanced down at her bowl. Once more missing the mischievous grin Jackson shared with the Head of the Dragon. Blue eyes widened as she took a bite of the gruel and looked back up at Hiccup with a dumfounded expression on her face.

“This is good.”

“I know,” Jackson hid his grin beneath the guise of taking another bite of his food. “Me and Hiccup were just comparing notes on our days so far, care to join in?”

“Did he tell you about the dogfight?” Astrid asked after swallowing huge spoon full of gruel.

“Yeah, I hear the youngest trainees managed to knock Snotlout’s ego down a peg or five.”

“Oh, they definitely did,” the blonde teenager nodded her head in agreement, grinning at the memory of throwing the brunet Viking into the water trough to put his flaming pants out. “But it was unfair to him too. For once in his life, Snotlout was playing by the rules of engagement for dogfighting with the trainees and took it easy on them. They didn’t have the same courtesy, though some of that was due to them not knowing the rules of engagement which we went over in great detail afterwards.”

“Hiccup didn’t tell me that part of it.”

“That’s because I didn’t know,” the Head of the Academy defended himself and glanced at Astrid, wondering how she had come across such information. “He was actually playing by the rules?”

“Oh, it gets even better,” Astrid said wryly. “Apparently, the twins were playing a prank on Snotlout, making him believe he had seen four of the Five Signposts to Valhalla. To be precise, the flying fish – which I’m assuming was some spawning salmon – the weeping rock – or in this case a wet rock on the beach – the singing trees – that was only a gust of wind, but Ruffnut convinced him otherwise – and the shepherd's curse in the form of Sven’s runaway sheep. After seeing the first four of the signs, Snotlout wanted to ‘pass on his legacy’ by teaching the trainees to dogfight at Tuffnut’s insistence. Everything came to head when the fifth sign – the bird of death – fell at my feet, and I do mean literally. Barf and Belch were dropping chickens through the dome on the Academy and missed, making them land at my feet instead of his.”

“Oh great, just what I need, another problem to take care of on top of everything else,” Hiccup moaned already thinking of the repercussions and all the work it meant for him. Toothless, seeing his rider’s distress, went over to his side and put his head in the teenager’s lap. He was rewarded with the Viking petting the hard to reach spot behind his ear-plate.

Astrid shook her head and waved him off with her free hand. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve already taken care of it. I let Snotlout take care of the twins’ punishments seeing how he was the one they wronged and I’m having the children cleaning up the Academy from top to bottom for their part in the prank.”

“Should I be worried about the twins if my cousin’s the one in charge of their punishment?”

“Actually, no. He’s making them help Gobber in the forge,” the shieldmaiden said, a hint of surprise in her own voice at the punishment Snotlout had come up with for the twins. “Gobber was happy to get all the help he can get with ‘only forty-one shopping days left until Snoggletog’ along with the extra work he’s getting because of the invasion. The twins certainly won’t be playing any more pranks on anybody else for a while after Gobber’s through with them.”

“They won’t, but other’s might,” Hiccup mumbled, glancing at Jackson who just sat there looking innocently as he ate the last of his meal.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing,” the auburn haired Viking dismissed, looking back over to Astrid who didn’t appear to be completely convinced. “Just thinking about Snoggletog that’s all.”

A smile formed across her lips at the mention of her favorite festival. “Yeah, it’ll be our second one with the dragons. Though, this season we’ll have to integrate their own customs into ours, we don’t want a repeat of last year.”

“Not after rebuilding the village again, that’s for sure,” Hiccup agreed noticing Fishlegs looking around the Great Hall for a place to sit and waving him over in view of the fact that the number of people had nearly doubled since they had first arrived.

“Would someone mind filing in the Druid who is completely confused here?” Jackson asked, glancing back and forth between the Head of the Academy and the shieldmaiden.

“Snoggletog happens to be the time of year when dragons migrate to lay their eggs on an island, The Berkery. Good thing too, because we found out dragon eggs tend to explode when they hatch,” Fishlegs answered as he took a seat next to Hiccup.

“They exploded?” the brunet looked around to the others for confirmation that the Gronckle rider wasn’t just pulling his leg. When both of the other Dragon Riders nodded their heads – Astrid grimacing before she too nodded – amber eyes blinked a few times. “I’ll have to remember that for future reference.”

“Please do,” Fishlegs begged watching as the shieldmaiden polished off the last of her gruel and no longer being able to hold back his growing curiosity. “How can you eat that stuff?”

“Because it’s good; anyways, I have to go, I promised to help Commander Huffnut with a few things,” Astrid answered the hefty Viking before turning her addressing them as a whole. Standing up, she gathered dishes to drop off with Norbert before heading out the Great Hall.

Looking down at his bowl, the heavyset blond tentatively took a bite and not a second later, a shiver ran up his whole body as he choked down the food. “How could Astrid like this? It tastes terrible.” The sudden laughter from Jackson was unexpected and unexplainable, which had Fishlegs looking around bewildered. “What? Was it something I said?”

Shaking his head, Hiccup smiled at the brunet as he attempted to suppress his laughter but wasn’t doing that well of a job. “Don’t worry about it Fishlegs. Jackson was just reminded of a funny joke, it’s nothing.”

“If you’re sure,” Fishlegs drew out, eyes darting over to the Druid with a wary expression. “So, have you come up with any idea what to do when the dragons leave?”

“Not yet,” the chief’s son shook his head. “But I don’t think we will have to worry too much about that, with Dagur in jail and Alvin no longer a threat, the only thing we have to worry about is the tribe’s reactions to the dragons leaving.”

“Well, it can’t be all that bad now, can it?” Jackson finally stopped laughing long enough to ask. The twin stares he received were answers enough.

* * *

“I don’t want Neðan to lea~ve,” Terrorthi wailed clinging to said Whispering Death for all she was worth while Snuffnut and Gustav attempted to pry the much smaller Dragon Rider Trainee away from the Boulder-class dragon without any success. Both boys were eternally grateful they were near the edge of the village where not many people would see such a travesty to their manhood. The few people who were around were too busy looking up, watching the beginnings of the dragon migration and weren’t paying any attention to them.

“How is she this strong?” the Monstrous Nightmare trainee grunted as he pulled harder yet the dark haired child didn’t budge.

“She’s Gothi’s niece, stop asking ridiculous questions and _pull!_ ” the blond boy growled, his hold slipping on the Whispering Death trainee with their last combined yank. Both he and Gustav ended up in a snowbank while Terrorthi started to weep in to green scale.

“Terrorthi, hush now, child,” Jackson whispered coming up behind the little trainees and kneeled down next to the weeping girl. He placed a comforting hand on the little shieldmaiden’s shoulder. The simple touch had Terrorthi whirling around and throwing herself into the brunet’s awaiting arms. Leaning his staff against his shoulder, he wrapped her up into a comforting hug. “It’s going to be alright, Neðan is only going to be gone for a little while, ten to fourteen days if Hiccup can be trusted.”

“He can!” Snuffnut was quick to assure – which Jackson had been counting on – as he hung from Torch’s maw by the back of his shirt.

“Yeah, I remember last winter. The dragons weren’t gone all that long,” Gustav agreed, hanging upside-down by the leg Fanghook was holding him by. “And then, it was a lot closer to Snoggletog then. It’s like twenty-four days until Snoggletog now, so the dragons will definitely return by then.”

“And don’t you want Neðan to have a good time? This is his – and the rest of the dragons – time to celebration too, are you going to be selfish and keep him from going?” the brunet asked gesturing his head to the two giant dragons to put the trainees down. The Typhoomerang was kind enough to gently set his rider on his feet while the Monstrous Nightmare – in true form to his predecessor – dropped his rider back into the snowbank, head first.

“No,” the girl shook her head sniffling. “But I don’t want him to go…what if he never comes back?”

Chuckling, Jackson shuffled the girl so she was in his arms and stood up. “Hey, are you telling me you stop believing in the moon when the sun comes out?”

Shaking her head, despite it being buried in the shoulder of the Druid, her mumbled reply could barely be heard. “No.”

“Okay, do you stop believing in the sun when the clouds block it out?”

“No,” Terrorthi repeated, voice a little stronger than before.

“Well then, what makes you think Neðan won’t come back? Are you going to stop believing in him?”

Leaning back, the Whispering Death trainee used her fists to rub the tears away from her eyes and look up into brightly gleaming amber. “No.”

“Good, because he’ll always be here,” Jackson said pointing at the child’s heart, “with you even when you’re far apart. You’ll always have a little bit of each other because when you love someone, you give them a piece of yourself and they in turn give a piece of themselves _to you_.”

“Really?” Terrorthi asked her face brightening as the brunet set her down and pulled a piece of cloth out of his pouch to dab away the remaining tears.

“Would I trick you?”

Snuffnut and Gustav looked at each other from behind the smaller girl and spoke up. _“Yes.”_

There was a pause before Jackson burst out laughing. “Well, alright. Not this time, I promise you, everything is going to be fine. Besides, the chief has a big announcement at noon; something about a surprise to everyone’s minds off the dragons leaving. Though, I don’t think he expected them to leave today.”

“Really?” the children perked up, long faces no longer quite as long as they had been a moment prior. “Do you know what it is? Can you tell us?”

“I probably would if I could, but I can’t. It’s going to be a surprise for me as well,” Jackson scrunched up his nose, remembering Hiccup hadn’t given him any clues regardless of him constantly pestering the chief’s son. He should have tried bribing him. Both Toothless and Sharpshot responded well to bribes, what was there to say Hiccup wouldn’t be as receptive to bribery in the form of kisses as the dragons were for fishes? “So how about we all say goodbye to the dragons and let them go have their own fun. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” the three chorused dejectedly, shoulders slumping as they made their way to their respective dragons.

Staring up at the giant Typhoomerang, Snuffnut dug into the satchel he brought along and pulled out a large eel which he offered to the dragon. Torch leaned down and slurped the eel out of the blond’s hands, thankfully before any of them dragons saw it and caused any chaos. Once finished eating, the orange dragon rubbed his face up against Snuffnut.

“Bye Torch.”

“Stay tough Fanghook,” Gustav stood up straight as the dragon copied his actions.

Placing a kiss on the Whispering Death’s nose horn, Terrorthi rubbed her face up against his face. “I love you, Neðan, please come back.”

A distant dragon’s roar filled the air had the dragons looking skywards. With one last glance at their riders, the trio of dragons took off after the hoard. Beating their wings rapidly to catch up before they were left behind as the migrating dragons flew towards The Berkery.

Feeling a hand on this shoulder, Jackson turned his head to the side to find Bucket. “I’ll take it from here Jackson; you’re already late enough as is.”

“Thanks Bucket,” the Druid grinned, twirling his staff around his fingers. He started to head out, only to stop and look back at the blond Viking. “They’ll still meeting by the docks, right? “

“Right, and watch out on the incline, there’s some ice,” Bucket called out even as the brunet ran out of hearing range. The winds were kind enough to carry the words to his ears; although, the ice wasn’t going to be a problem for him.

In fact, as soon as amber eyes found the ice leading down the incline from the high cliffs to the docks down below, the Druid jumped. But not out of the way, no Jackson jumped on the ice and allowed his momentum to propel him across the slick surface. Keeping his balance was second nature to the brunet as he skidded down the incline. His staff reaching out and hooked onto the poll which swung him around and onto the wooden ramp where he began running again.

He reached the docks in record time, finding he wasn’t too late seeing as Stoick, Spitelout, their sons, and Commander Huffnut were still waiting. All eyes were turned out to the ocean, waiting for the longboat with the Outcast’s crest on the sail to dock. Running up, he slid passed Toothless – giving the dragon a pat on the head – and came to standing next to Snotlout.

“You’re late,” the burly Viking whispered out too low for his father to hear.

Brushing off his cloak and making himself presentable for their guests, Jackson not so subtly wacked the other brunet with his staff: hard. “You deal with emotional children refusing to release their dragons and see how long it takes you.”

“Ha,” Snotlout snorted at the Druid’s whispered reply. “I had to deal with _Fishlegs_ , which couldn’t have been all that different.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Shh,” Hiccup shushed them, leaning back to look around the adults at the two chatty burnets. Leaning back himself, Jackson waved at the auburn haired teenager and bit his lip when Hiccup trailed off, seeing how he been distracted by the Druid. “They’re docking now.”

“Alvin!” Stoick shouted as the gangplank was slammed down on the docks and the Outcast chief pushed his way to the front. “How was the journey over? No troubles with any ice I take it?”

A robust ragged laugh came out of the not so unkempt Outcast chief’s mouth as he slapped Berk’s chief’s arm good-humoredly. “As if that would keep me from beating your ass, the Gold is going to be mine.”

Spitelout snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. “Not likely. It will be you Outcast who will tasting defeat at our hands.”

“We’ll see about that,” Alvin laughed and promptly disregarded Snotlout’s father, much to the man’s displeasure.

As they continued talking, Jackson discreetly tapped the Viking teen next to him with his staff. “What’s going on? Gold? What are they talking about?”

Glancing up at his father, who had pushed himself back into the conversation, Snotlout knew the man was going to ignore him from the foreseeable future and turned back to the Druid. “It’s like this, every four winters we have what’s called the Winter Games to compete in. The Games consist of Bobsledding, Ski Jumping, Speed Staking, and Snowboarding, the latter of which is a relatively new addition.”

“I have a feeling these might be different than the Winter Olympic games I’m used to,” Jackson whispered in English, earning him a curious glance from the Viking before he switched back over to Old Norse. “And just how do you play these games?”

“Puf, they’re easy,” the broad-shouldered Viking waved off. “Ski Jumping you’re launched out of a catapult and through the sky into a glacier, the person who is the highest up the glacier wins. Then there’s Speed Staking, usually adolescent Gronckles are tied to the participants’ backs to launch them forward but since the dragons are gone we’re just going to be doing it the old fashion way. Bobsledding, you just need strength, courage, and a guy named Bob.”

“Why a guy named Bob?”

“To be your _Bob_ -sled of course.”

“I’m not even going to ask. Nope,” Jackson shook his head as he mumbling in English too low for anyone to hear him.

“Lastly, there’s snowboarding. Actually, Hiccup created it during the last Games, anyways, you use a wooden plank and go down the snow covered mountain doing tricks.”

“That I’m a little familiar with,” the brunet sighed, finally having something he was accustomed with. Maybe, if the Games were opened to all, he could join in and play. It would be great fun. “So it’s been four winters since the last Games, huh?”

“No, just two winter,” Hiccup said, sneaking around the adults to stand next to his friends. “Dad thought having the Games early would keep our minds off the dragons leaving. Not to mention, competing against the Outcasts instead of each other might foster some feelings of goodwill and help build our budding alliance.”

“Two winters hu-oof!” the Druid croaked as a giant hand slapped him on the back, causing him to stumble forward.

“Jackson! It’s wonderful to see you again!” Alvin shouted as said teen fought to regain his footing.

“Alvin, nice to see you as well,” Jackson winced, rubbing his sore shoulder. “How’s it going for you?”

“Great! I want you to meet the first life save on my own. Boy! Get over here!” the ragged chief screamed behind him at the boat of Outcasts unloading crates of goods.

A teen on the verge of manhood turned at the shout, brown eyes catching sight of Alvin waving him over, and set down the crate he had just picked up, large muscles flexing with each movement. Standing up, the tall Viking made his way across the gangplank, his long blondish-brown hair and red blanket tied as a cape – because there was no other way to describe the stupid piece of red fabric in the Druid’s mind – billowed in the wind. Jackson had to look back and forth between Hiccup and the new comer because if one was to take away the sleeves of his shirt replace the fur vest with a short scalemail vest and add arm bracers to match the scalemail along with a metal horned helmet then the two were wearing the same outfit. It was creepy.

“Saved him myself from drowning after his boat went down; he and the others left have joined the Outcast Tribe,” Alvin proudly stated slapping the man on the back; though, unlike Jackson, he didn’t stumble. “He’s going to help us win the Games, aren’t ya, Hroar?”

“Hm, yeah, sure,” the man, whose name was apparently Hroar, grunted as he looked down his nose at them.

“You’ve made a good start I see, Alvin,” Jackson agreed glad to see the older Viking was taking his vow to the fae seriously. After all, the Winter King would come for Alvin’s soul if he didn’t. The brunet briefly wondered what would happen if he came in his current visage of Bucket instead any of his other forms – which would be amusing – before amber eyes drifted to the new Outcast Viking. “It’s a please to meet you, Hroar.”

“Yeah, sure, pleased as well,” dark eyes swept pass the Druid and settled on Snotlout, “you must be the chief’s son, Hiccup.”

“What? As if! I’m Snotlout,” appalled Viking jabbed his finger over to the Head of the Academy, “that’s Hiccup.”

“But they are cousins, my wife – bless her soul – and Snotlout’s mother were sisters, so there is a family resemblance,” Stoick tried to smooth things over but Jackson wondered how anyone could mistake the two cousins for one another. “Why don’t we show you where you’ll be staying during the Games. My blacksmith has volunteered to give up his hut for some of you and the Commander had made a few other accommodations as well.”

“I hope it’s not in your jailhouse,” Alvin said eyes following after the Commander, “though I wouldn’t mind sharing a hut with her.”

The three teenagers shared a look and shuddered as Spitelout gave a wolfish grin, muttering for only the winds to hear who in turned let their little Druid listen in as well. “It would be you’re death. Please try.”

“Hiccup, why don’t you show Hroar around while we go to the Great Hall for some drinks,” Stoick patted his son on the shoulder as Alvin and Spitelout headed down the docks and towards the wooden ramps leading up to the village.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in my search for characters to use in the story, I came across Hroar in HTTYD wikia and now I'm wishing I could find a place to read the little comic series he was in. Sadly, I can't thus for the sake of the story, I just used his character design and general info from the wiki and twisted everything else to use Hroar for my own purposes.
> 
> I made Toothless into a slash dragon. *blink blink* And I don't even know how that came about. He just wrote himself into the story that way. *falls over laughing* Oh man, Toothless is now officially a HiJack Slash Dragon.


	49. Winter Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HearHearHear: Will Jack go back to the future? Will he remain in the past? Will he get his abilities back? Will he be Jackson Overland or Jack Frost? I only have to say, No Spoilers. Therefore, read the last two chapters and all will be answered.
> 
> Toffyy: I love Toothless's part too, even if he wrote himself in that way and it wasn't planned on my part, sneaky slash dragon.
> 
> icequeen: The small sequel I have in the works is only for the two part Race to the Edge episode 'Have Dragon, Will Travel,' it is not Jackson's involvement in HTTYD 2.
> 
> Telidina: Yeah, slow burn HiJacks is REALLY slow burn, but at least they're finally together and Snoggletog is coming in time for Christmas too. Which, in all honesty, is a coincidence that the chapter is ending up the same week as Christmas. I have no idea how I even managed that. O.o
> 
> Moonpuzzle: Hmm, interesting idea, what would slash dragon and his rider do if someone interfered with HiJacks? *sits down to pounder it* As for the Winter Olympics, after seeing the Racing for the Gold snips on YouTube, I just had to include them somehow. If you haven't already seen the mini-videos, I suggest all of you go watch them (and feel sorry for Bob the Sled).
> 
> HeichouTheTitan: I don't care, I'm getting FANART! I'm so happy! I can't wait to see it. THANK YOU!
> 
> Dire_Kumori: Thanks for the wonderful compliment, it's always good to hear from people who enjoy my fic. I started writing this for myself, since there wasn't very many new HiJacks fanfics recently and it's because of people like you and everyone else who has reviewed that I keep with it to the very end. 50 Chapters is a lot of writing and editing and tearing out hair, but I'm almost done. Only one chapter left. Holy Shit...I have only one chapter left...O.O >>> X.X

“And up these stairs is the Great Hall,” Hiccup pointed up the snow covered steps which a few of the younger generation were busy clearing the snow away. When the children saw the two Dragon Riders and the Druid, a couple abandoned their task to wave. It seemed like a few of them were even debating on scooping up some snow and starting a snowball fight with the teenagers, yet the presence of the foreigner kept them from going through with the idea. “Meals are served there three times a day but it is usually opened to all at any time and if you’re really hungry, just ask Mrs. Larson or Norbert and they’ll be able to scrounge something up.”

“That’s nice,” Hroar said disinterestedly, brown eyes looking around the village as many of the Vikings were cleaning up their huts from last night’s snowstorm while simultaneously putting up decorations.

Jackson was rather impressed with the number of similarities he was seeing with decorations for Snoggletog that were used for Christmas as well. There were garlands drabbed across huts with large different colored glass baubles hanging off them every few feet. The lights coming from inside were brilliant and definitely nothing manmade as they twinkled with a light which could only belong to that of the fae. Red ribbons were streaming between the different structures and every so often, the Druid would catch sight of sprigs of mistletoe hanging in the most populated of areas.

The children who were already finished with their chores were busy coating old shield with bright colored paints. Amber eyes found Snuffnut, Terrorthi, and Gustav a part of said group in the middle with Bucket helping the young children by passing out extra brushes and paints. Thankfully, none of them appeared to be as miserable and depressed as they had been when he left them earlier. He even waved to Gustav when the boy looked up but the Monstrous Nightmare trainee seemed to be more impressed with Snotlout standing next to him and failed to notice him.

The older, more agile Viking children and teens were busy bring plank after plank of wood to the center of the village. A group off to the side received the planks and painting them green while a few of the older generation were busy carving some kind of Viking totem. Others still were handing dried green boards up a ladder as those on the ladders were hammering them into what was becoming to look like a pine tree.

“And that’s pretty much all there is to the village,” Hiccup concluded drawing the brunet’s attention back way from the various groups of working Vikings and back to their visitor.

Hroar’s eyes swept the area once more before landing on the Night Fury who had been faithfully following behind his rider. “I thought this place was supposed to be filled with dragons. All I’ve seen so far is that gimp.”

Toothless went from being completely relaxed and bored to his eyes narrowing into slits and his ear-plates laying flat against his head. For a moment, his mouth was devoid of teeth – but Jackson did think that wouldn’t last long if the Outcast Viking said anything more – as a low growl began to rumble in his throat. By his side, the Druid could feel Snotlout stiffening while both their eyes turned towards the Head of the Academy who was only now getting over his shock and clenching his teeth together.

Shifting his weight, Jackson bumped his shoulder against the chief’s son and drummed his fingers against the cloth wrapped around his staff. “They’re busy elsewhere right now, why? You wanna be eaten?”

“Eaten?!” the Viking’s brown eyes snapped to the Druid, finally seemingly taking notice of his presence despite him being there from the beginning. “Dragons don’t eat people!” The two Vikings behind the brunet trading looks had him not looking as sure of his proclamation as he had been moments prior. “…Do they?”

The Druid opened his mouth – fully intending to draw things out as long as possible – but ended up closing it with a slight pout on his face when he was beaten to it. “Dragons don’t eat people. Well, at least our dragons don’t, there are a few wild dragons out there who might. However, we’ve never run across a species to feast solely on human flesh, well, maybe the Red Death did. But Hiccup and Toothless took care of her.”

“Morning Fishlegs,” Hiccup greeted the heavyset Viking while both brunets with him grumbled out their own helloes, Jackson being slightly peeved the Gronckle rider had taken away his fun and retribution while Snotlout just didn’t want to deal with anymore of the blond’s crying. “Astrid, Ruff, Tuff, glad to see you all in good spirits.”

“Yeah, good spirits, yay,” Tuffnut sardonically grunted twirling a finger in the air listlessly.

“We’re having a great time,” Ruffnut griped shoulders slouched and blue eyes rolling. “Gobber’s making us clean and organize his whole stock.”

“Well, if you hadn’t caused that minor explosion to gain Barf and Blech’s attention as they fle- ow!” Fishlegs yelped when the twins elbowed him on both sides, which was partly his fault for standing between the two blondes known for their violent tendencies.

“Don’t mind them, they’re adjusting,” the shieldmaiden said taking a step away from the bickering trio. “So what have you guys been doing? I heard Stoick requested you guys meet him at the docks.”

“Dad wanted us to be there to greet our guests and show one of them around the village,” Hiccup gestured to the Outcast Viking who stood apart from Toothless, Jackson, and Snotlout. However, for once those brown eyes of Hroar were not filled with disinterest but genuine curiosity as he looked up and down at the Deadly Nadder rider.

“And who might this lovely beauty be? A maiden you are courting, perhaps, Hiccup?” Hroar enquired as an uncharacteristic flush spread across blonde shieldmaiden’s cheeks.

“No!” Astrid was quick to deny with a shake of her head.

If it had been a few months ago, Hiccup would have been utterly heartbroken at how quickly she had dissuaded the notion of them courting from the handsome Viking’s mind. Even if it had been a few weeks ago, he would have been a little hurt by the comment but now it didn’t faze him in the least. Not with Jackson standing next to him, discreetly feeding Toothless a few dragon treats to appease the irritated Night Fury, and when amber eyes caught green, a soft smile spread across the brunet’s face which warmed Hiccup despite them being in the middle of winter surrounded by snow.

“Astrid, meet Hroar. Hroar, Astrid,” the chief’s son introduced the newcomers. “Behind her is Fishlegs, our resident dragon expert, and the twins are Ruffnut and Tuffnut.”

“Please to meet you,” the man said suavely as Astrid’s blush becoming even darker when he bowed slightly to her, shooting her a disarming smile.

“By Odin, I think I’m going to be sick,” Snotlout gagged at the horrid display, which was lost on the Deadly Nadder rider as her attention was focused entirely on Hroar. The chuckles he received from Jackson and – surprisingly enough – his cousin showed him his comment hadn’t gone completely unheard.

“I think I’m already sick…sick of him,” the chief’s son shot right back which had Jackson voicing his agreement, but also had a bushy brown eyebrow rising up underneath his helmet before joining the other brow to furrow together.

“Why? Jealous?” the Monstrous Nightmare rider cajoled Hiccup in an attempt to get a rise out of him.

The snort was unexpected for the sole reason it wasn’t one of indignity, but nonchalant. “No.”

“Nice to meet you too, Hroar. What brings you to Berk?” Astrid asked brushing her bangs to the side when she finally got her blush under control, for the most part.

“I have come to compete in your Winter Games, fair maiden.”

All of a sudden, Hroar was bombarded from either side by the twins who were clutching well muscular arms and looking at the aghast Outcast Viking with stars in their eyes. “ _The Winter Games?!_ ”

“Stoick’s holding the _Winter Games_?” the blonde Viking asked as she rubbed her check against the man’s biceps. “The total chaotic, dangerous and absolutely amazing _Winter Games_?! Those _Winter Game_? Please say yes, _please!_ ”

“By Loki, think of all the chaos!” her brother agreed before becoming still and eyeing Hroar with suspicion. “You aren’t lying to us Heraw? Tell me you’re not lying?!”

“It’s Hroar-” the man tried to correct Tuffnut but the others were already talking over him.

“Is it true, Hiccup? Is Stoick holding _the Winter Games_?” Fishlegs bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

“Yeah-”

Pushing himself forward, Snotlout jabbed a finger at his puffed out chest. “And I’m going to win! Those Outcast Vikings won’t stand a chance!”

The proclamation had the Dragon Riders not currently in the loop of intertribal relationships motionless with horrorstruck looks frozen on their faces. “ _Outcasts?!_ ”

“To foster goodwill between our tribes, Alvin and your chief have agreed to organize these Games to better the rocky alliance,” Hroar explained ever so politely, once again not allowing Hiccup to explain the situation to his Academy members.

There was a stunned silence before the twins broke out with wide grins and looked at each other. “We’re so going to kick those Outcast’s butts! Gotta go!”

“Does anyone else get the feeling they’re preparing to cheat?” Jackson asked as he watched the Hideous Zippleback riders run away, only to find stares of disbelief directed at him when he looked away from the twins. “Stupid question; never mind, forget I asked. In that case, if we’re done with the tour, I should really go round up the twins and bring them back to Gobber’s. There are a few things I need from his hut while I’m staying with Typhan,” the brunet paused, amber eyes drifting over to the chief’s son, “meet up later at the forge, Hiccup?”

“Sure,” the auburn haired Viking nodded, grinning. “See you then.”

“Bye!” the Druid waved to the group, heading in the direction Ruffnut and Tuffnut had taken off in at a much more sedated pace.

“Bye Jackson,” the Dragon Riders bid farewell.

With no other distractions, Astrid found her eyes going back to the muscular Outcast Viking she was sure she had never encountered before during their skirmishes with Alvin. “So, I take it you’re new to the Outcast Tribe-” here the man nodded his head, which had the shieldmaiden smiling that her observation skills were getting better “-where are you originally from, Hroar?”

“I am from a small remote island called Knall,” Hroar answered her question pleasantly.

“Are there any dragons there?” Fishlegs asked the much taller man, eager to learn about any potential new dragons the new Outcast Viking might have seen during his travels.

Shaking his head, the man glanced over to Toothless who gave him his most unimpressed look. “There hasn’t been many dragons there in years, though Alvin told me there were counltess dragons here and I was hoping to see more of them.”

“Why?” Hiccup asked feeling a little suspicious of the man. There was just something about the Outcast which rubbed him the wrong way, not to mention Toothless didn’t like him and that was a good enough reason for him.

“They’ve always fascinated me, my father used to sing me a lullaby about them in an old obscure language,” Hroar explained taking a step closer to Toothless and holding out his hand. The dragon glared at him and took a step back, lips drawn back. “Would you like to hear it?”

“Not really-” Snotlout grunted when Astrid elbowed him in the side.

“I would love to,” the shieldmaiden smiled.

Hroar gazed straight in the blonde teenager’s blue eyes as he began his lullaby, as if he was singing it to her and her alone. “Ia bend dǽdon níwe. Cúðon gare íewe deahl sǽ áre-”

As the Outcast sung, Astrid sighed in content as the sweat sounding language filled her ears despite not being able to understand a word of it. Toothless, on the other hand, had the exact opposite reaction to the lullaby. The dragon began shaking his head, pawing at his ear-plates and as Hroar continued singing, the plates went back and his eyes became slits. Pearly white teeth immerged and a howl echoed throughout the town square which was soon joined by a moan of pain. Neither one of which belonged to Toothless.

“-Sé áre. Ig bæþ deahl sǽ néah. Déaþ ór cwylþ óga him. An wén. Flíete á. Dómdæg. Déaþ ór cwylþ óga him. An wén.-”

“ _Terrorthi!_ ” Gustav’s scream alerted the non-enamored Dragon Riders to the girl’s petrified state, who was staring toward them with unseeing eyes and a trickle of blood coming out of her nose.

“-Flíete á. Dómdæg D-éaþ ór cwylþ óga him. Ia bend dǽdon níwe. Cúðon gare íewe deahl sǽ néah.-”

“ _Bucket!_ ” Snuffnut cried as the tall blond man clutched the bucket on his head and moaned in pain, blue eyes darting frantically around him as if he was searching for what was tormenting him.

“-Sé áre. Ig bæþ deahl sǽ néah. An wén. Flíete á. Dómdæg.-”

“ _Jackson!_ ” twin voices rang out which had vivid green eyes darting away from the distressed Night Fury to the form of the brunet on his hands and knees shaking in what appeared to be unbelievable agony while Ruffnut and Tuffnut stood on either side of him. His staff was somehow standing upright on its own as the crystal which hung from it cracked with light and sparks.

“-Déaþ ór cwylþ óga him-” the Outcast Viking was abruptly stopped by a hand on his shoulder, squeezing painfully hard for such a slender looking appendage.

“I would suggest, child, you crease your enchantment,” Typhan spoke gently, but there was a warning in his voice Hiccup had never heard from the craftsman before, one that spoke of great power and pain if Hroar did not desist at that very moment.

There was a flash of something in brown eyes – pure fear – as the man attempted to explain himself in the most polite manner he had yet to display in Hiccup’s company. “Good sir, I have no idea what you speak of, I was only singing a lullaby my father taught me.”

“Then it is no wonder your island hasn’t had the pleasure of being home to dragons, if your father was constantly reciting a Sidhe sacrificing ritual as a simple lullaby,” the Guild Master spoke as a number of Vikings around the affected trio rushed to their aide.

* * *

“How’s Terrorthi?”

“Fine.”

“How’s Bucket?”

“Fine too.”

“Then-”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“But-”

“No, you were the most affected by _Hroar’s_ -” the name was spit out “ _so called lullaby_ and Gothi put you on bedrest until she clears you. Don’t even think about objecting, both Bucket and Terrorthi are in their own beds, _resting_ and not complaining.”

“I doubt it,” Jackson crossed his arms over chest, the dragon scale and crystal clinking together as he jostled the gnarled piece of wood laying in his lap.

The Druid proceeded to pout from his position in the makeshift bed of furs made up underneath the stair to the second floor of Typhan’s hut. Hiccup only glanced at him, shaking his head and went back to tending to the hearth while keeping an eye on the food the Guild Master had started before being called out by Gruffnut. Jackson, thankfully, couldn’t even sneak out of bed since the giant lump of Night Fury flesh was using his legs as a pillow, effectively keeping him pinned down. Even if he did – somehow – get out from underneath Toothless, the icy blue or silvery orbs of light would start chiming at him angrily to alert the Dragon Rider to his escape attempt and the brunet couldn’t deal with the disappointed look those vivid green eyes would give him. _Again_.

Knowing he wasn’t going to escape any time soon, Jackson admitted defeat…silently. “What was up with that lullaby anyways? And how did you know to stop him?”

Hiccup, who was about to sit back down at the table and work on some of the commissions he had for Snoggletog, stilled before changing directions and heading for the alcove where the Druid was. “I didn’t, Typhan did. Apparently, Silvermist-” the silver orb thrilled at her name “-heard the beginning of the enchantment from where she and some of the other Wyldfae were hiding away from the Outcasts and got the closest person who could help. From what Periwinkle has told me, Hroar’s _lullaby_ was an Olde Sidhe sacrificing ritual banished fae used to regain their immortality. However, since Hroar wasn’t a banished mortal Sidhe, it focused on draining the life-force of anyone – human and Creatures of Magic alike – in the vicinity with magic.”

“Sidhe magic? Nasty stuff,” the Druid shuddered before the last part of what the Dragon Rider said sunk in. “Draining magic? But I don’t have magic, well enough to cause that kind of reaction.”

Sitting next to Jackson in the nest of furs and blanket, Hiccup reached out and rubbed the top of Toothless’s head. The dragon leaned into the touch, not needing to open his eyes to know it was his rider. Yet the motion was more of a way for the chief’s son to focus himself then to provide comfort for the sleepy dragon. His mind preoccupied with all the instances Jackson had used his ‘nonexistent magic’ to save them all.

“About that, Jackson, who exactly told you that you didn’t have a lot of magic?”

“My mom,” the brunet shrugged not seeing where this was going.

“As I thought,” Hiccup mumbled, the last piece of the puzzle clicking into place. Granted, he really didn’t want to break it to the younger teenager his mother most likely lied to him about not having magic. However, it was the only logical conclusion with the facts he had at hand; a magical hating king out there and a mother living in constant fear her child had magic – and Hiccup had no doubt Jackson would have been eager to use magic despite the threat of death – which could be solved with a simple little lie, claiming the child had no magic to keep him safe.

“Just as you thought?” Jackson repeated, obviously having heard what was said and was looking at him with one thin brown eyebrow raised.

Grinning sheepishly, the Dragon Rider ducked his head at getting caught and toyed with the edges of one of the furs he was sitting on. “It’s just, with some of the things I’ve seen you do, the folded sunshine, the Lightning Rocks, and your crystal occasionally glowing to name a few, I don’t think you’re as magically inept as you say you are.”

“But why would my mom lie?” the brunet shook his head slowly, denial building up in his amber eyes which had Hiccup feeling guiltier. “I mean, I’m horrible at potions work and my mom said that was one of the easiest things a sorcerer can do.”

“For the same reason any mother would want to deter their children from practicing magic in a magic-hating environment that could very well get them killed.”

Jackson’s stiffened and slowly turned his head towards the Viking with wide amber eyes. “How did yo-?”

“We pieced it together, between some of the things you said along with your actions,” Hiccup hurried to explain only for the Druid’s breathing to speed up and come in shorter gasps as his hands began to tremble. Periwinkle and Silvermist both descended from their spots in the framework of the stairs and landed on Jackson’s shoulder, each trying to calm the brunet down.

“ _We?!_ ”

Understanding struck the chief’s son at his slip up and he quickly moved to correct it; his hand reaching out and taking ahold of one of the trembling hand, cupping it between his own. “Just between us Dragon Riders, we haven’t told anyone else; we wouldn’t do that to you Jackson. None of us would say anything without your approval.”

“Promise?”

Smiling at the tiny whisper as Jackson leaned his head against the Viking’s shoulder, Hiccup nodded. “Promise.”

“I didn’t want people to know, I don’t want their pity,” a heavy sigh escaped those lips as the two Wyldfae – seeing Hiccup had everything under control – took their leave. The two teenagers sat in silence for a while, Jackson mulling over what the auburn haired teenager had divulged and finding his theory had some merits within his memories. Absentmindedly, his hand began to fiddle with the crystal hanging on his staff.

He just wished he knew the truth.  

As the thought crossed his mind, amber eyes caught sight of something in the clear crystal and he was drawn in. Blinking a few times, Jackson found himself viewing his life in flickering flashes of images. Some of the memories he remembered prior – his mother conducting a potions lessons ending in a minor explosion caused by his ineptness, meeting Gabe the only person in his settlement who didn’t look down on him or actively avoid him as a boy, him teaching Annis to swim as a teenager – and some he hadn’t remembered – him picking up a small newly hatch golden bird that appeared near death until he held it in his hands and climbed up the tree to put it back in its nest filled with ash, being chased by some wraith like creature, finding a horned white horse and a bony black wing horse in a clearing on the eve of his death – yet throughout the majority of the images, Jackson watched as iridescent threads – that seemed to be highlighted for his benefit – spider webbed out from around his younger self.

It was the iridescent threats that seemed to feed the golden bird a touch of power, improving the hatchling’s health and brought life to the dried herbs of his potions, the real result of the explosion. The threads he had unwittingly spread out and seemingly used to pull Gabe towards his sniffling younger self hidden in the hollow of a tree, forcing their first meeting. Threads he had unknowingly followed to find the two opposite horses and the wraith like creature had been consuming as it chased him during his mortal life. To Jackson – who was watching his life fly by – it appeared the iridescent web reacted to the Balance of Nature, feeding it and strengthening it as if it had been rejuvenated by magic, _by his magic_.

In spite of this, the images did not stop when he reached the same conclusion Hiccup had already come to and continued to flash through the crystal, finally slowing down when it reached the end of his mortal life. The images didn’t stop their either, showing Gabe running towards the icy pond too late to do anything for him but just in time to hold a sobbing Annis back from going after him. Gabe dragged her back to their settlement but she didn’t stay away and came back with their mother, both wearing their Druid cloaks. A wave of sadness wash over Jackson as he watched his family carefully performed a Druid burial ritual at the edge of the frozen pond.

Then, without warning, the crystal’s image dove below the frozen waters where Jackson found himself watching his body sink further and further into the darken depths. The crystal in the image began glowing and enveloped his body in pure light but not before Manny’s own light washed over him as well. Both lights, one gold and one silver, battle for dominance before his spirit was ripped from his mortal shell and altered to that of his Jack Frost visage by the silver light. The golden light, on the other hand, continued to shine as his body drifted to rest upon the ground which was clearly not the bottom of the pond. Somehow, and don’t ask him how, his younger self was now in a dark and damp place – most likely a cave from the looks of it – as his crystal grew and encased his mortal vessel.

Images began to flash forward again, this time showing him his life of Jack Frost – the iridescent threats barely visible, weak and feeble – right up until he took the blow meant for Tooth. His spiritual body flickered as it fell through the air only to materialize in the red array he had found himself in almost a year ago. What started him though, was when the Disir passed judgement on him and the red light enveloped him, his spirit was hurtled into his mortal body encased in crystal – perfectly preserved for over three hundred years – that shatter as Jack Frost collided with it and a small piece, the same which was now tied to his staff, to tangle in his clothing. His spirit and body became one for the first time since his death.

Jackson watched as amber eyes sprang opened, his body taking a deep breath as the wounds he had received from the Nightmare Men transferred to his mortal vessel. No sooner than his eyes snapped open did they close again, a moan of pain escaping him as his crystal flared to life and then his body was falling through the sky. Falling through time and space where he wound up in an era of myths and Vikings.

“Jackson? Are you alright?” Hiccup’s voice had him breaking eye contact with the crystal as the Dragon Rider reached up and whipping a tear away from the corner of his eyes. The Druid was startled, he hadn’t realized he had been crying, and used his free hand to whip away the rest of the tears with the palm of his hand.

“Yeah, yeah I think I am,” Jackson smiled realizing he now had all his lost memories, those of Jackson Overland and Jack Frost. Moreover, he was whole in body, mind, and spirit and he knew just who he was. “Better than I’ve been in a long time.”

“Even after almost being used in a Sidhe sacrificing ritual?” the chief’s son asked with a raised eyebrow.

The Druid just hummed and nodded his head, leaning back up against Hiccup’s shoulder and yawned. “Do you think Gothi will release me from bedrest for the start of the Winter Games? I’d really like to see them.”

“I don’t know, we’ll have to wait and see,” the Dragon Rider answered as Jackson mumbled an unintelligible reply, fighting to stay awake. Kissing the brunet on the forehead, Hiccup leaned his head against brown locks. “Go to sleep Jackson.”

“Mmkay.”

* * *

“Come on Astrid! You can do it!” Jackson hollered with the rest of the crowd as the shieldmaiden took the lead in the second round of Speed Staking. Her opponent was a head taller than her with a wiry frame, but the Outcast stood no chance. Even when he _slipped up_ a few times in the first stretch of the race, the Deadly Nadder rider jumped up or ducked to dodge the flailing limbs which had slowed her down somewhat, but didn’t knocker her out of the race. Now she was out in front and putting even more distance between the Outcast Tribe competitor and her. There was no way the man could catch up.

“Yeah! You got this Astrid!” Hiccup yelled besides him as Toothless on the Dragon Rider’s other side let out a loud croon. Though, if the dragon was just making noise because everyone around him was shouting and screaming or if he was also cheering for the shieldmaiden too was up for debate.

“Wo-ho!” Snotlout shouted from Jackson’s other side when the blonde Dragon Rider crossed the finish line first and skidded to a stop, spraying ice shavings on the unfortunate onlookers up front.

“That’s two-to-zero in our favor,” Tuffnut cheered bouncing up and down behind the chief’s son.

“If we keep this up, we’ll dominate the games!” his sister, standing next to him, agreed with vigorous nods of her head.

“Don’t forget, the chief was only barely able to beat Alvin in the first round and we still have a long way to go,” Fishlegs pointed out from behind the brunet Viking. “Ow! What was that for?”

“For ruining the mood!” Ruffnut growled, arms crossing over her chest as she turned her back on the Gronckle rider who was busy rubbing his abused ribs. Fishlegs attempted to verbally defend himself but he made the mistake of not defending himself physically as the blonde Viking rounded on him once again.

“Isn’t it time for the Ski Jumpers to go get prepared?” Jackson asked, providing the heavyset Viking with the perfect excuse to make a tactical retreat. Wisely, Fishlegs took it and left, congratulating Astrid on her victory when the two crossed paths as she made her way over to the group.

“So, what does that make us?” the shieldmaiden asked after congratulations due to her were given.

“Two-to-zero,” Tuffnut happily supplied, but judging by the smirk on Astrid’s face, she already knew that.

-

“Correction, make that two-to-one,” Hiccup winced in sympathy as Fishlegs plowed head first into the snowbank, the Outcast Viking’s – who was a foot above him – ski stuck the Gronckle rider in the lower back.

-

“Three-to-one,” Ruffnut grinned as Snotlout landed far above all other contestants, beating the previous record in the Ski Jump.

-

“Three-to-two,” Snotlout covered his face as the catapult failed to launch Gustav in the air and instead flung him into the ground two feet away from its base.

-

“That’s three-to-three,” Tuffnut was torn between groaning that the Outcasts were now tied with them or laughing hysterically as his sister spun out of control on Bob the Viking and straight into a tree.

-

“That’s three-to-four,” Fishlegs winced in sympathy as Tuffnut was taken out by a low hanging branch and Bob kept speeding onwards.

-

“Four-to-four,” Jackson grinned as Bob – the Viking almost frozen solid after three consecutive runs – crossed the finishing line first, grinning brightly with Snuffnut and Terrorthi hooting and hollering on his back.

-

“Guys, we still have a chance to win! The next event is Snowboarding and no one has been able to beat Hiccup!” Astrid dispersed the growing tension building up between the members of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe which had all the Vikings – both young and old – perking up and nodding their heads in agreement.

“Thanks a lot, Astrid; just what I need, more pressure,” the chief’s son grumbled under his breath.

“Don’t worry Hiccup, you’ll do great,” the shieldmaiden placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and flashed him a big smile.

Granted, it was Jackson’s causal unassuming words which had Hiccup’s stress draining away and him shaking his head at the Druid’s enthusiasm. “I’ll fly you up the mountain on Toothless!”

“We really need to get you a dragon of your own,” Snotlout mimicked his cousin’s actions and shook his head. However, the offhanded comment had Toothless sitting up tall and looking around before his eye lids dropped and he let out a growl of displeasure.

“Naw, I don’t need a dragon of my own,” the brunet waved off the comment while patting the Night Fury on the head comfortingly before mounting the newly appeased dragon. “Besides, if I ever need a dragon of my own, I’ll just steal Hiccup’s.”

“Anyone else and I wouldn’t be concerned, Toothless would sooner bite them then let them near. But you? You could, would, and _have_ bribed him successfully,” the Head of the Academy rolled his eyes as he climbed on behind the Druid – being mindful of Jackson’s staff strapped to his back – and settled down.

“Don’t forget Sharpshot, I’ve bribed him too!” Jackson added, further implicating himself without shame. “Alright Toothless, let’s get Hiccup to the top of that mountain for some winter fun.” The Night Fury shook his head to displace some of the flakes of snow which had begun drifting down off his head and took flight.

“You’re getting better,” Hiccup commented as the Druid seamlessly shifted gears to compensate for the higher altitude.

“Of course I am, I had a great teacher,” the brunet turned to flash him a smile, amber eyes closed. “And Hiccup? Do me a favor; don’t worry about the competition and just have fun out there.”

Startled, the Dragon Rider softened and nodded his head. “Okay, I promise, but only for you.” The Druid chose that moment to turn his back around, but not before Hiccup saw the little flush dusting Jackson’s cheeks which had nothing to do with the icy wind whipping against his face.

Coming in for a landing, the few Vikings at the top of the mountain made room on the limited space for Toothless. Muffnut – the twin’s oldest brother and apparently the Winter Games Coordinator when he wasn’t busy making boats for the tribe – was already waiting to the side with the wood plank the auburn haired Viking’s would be using as his snowboard. There were some slight modifications to the ordinary piece of wood for Hiccup to secure his metal foot to but they wouldn’t give him an advantage unlike many of the Outcasts had complained in hopes to disqualify him from the Games.

“You ready?” Muffnut asked hobbling over as the chief’s son dismounted.

“As I’ll ever be,” Hiccup answered taking the board from the blond man and looking around at the other Vikings present. His eyes narrowing when they landed on the last person he wanted to see. “What’s _he_ doing here?”

Blue eyes turned to looking in the direction the Hope and Heir to the Tribe of the Hairy Hooligans was staring and scowled. “ _Hroar_ is your competition. _Alvin_ persuaded your father in allowing him to stay – since the _níðingr_ thought the lullaby was only that, a _lullaby_ – with the promise he would never recite the damn _ritual_ so long as he was anywhere near Berk or our allies.”

“Wonderful,” the Night Fury rider grumbled rolling his eyes. He stiffened when he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see amber eyes looking at him with concern. A shout from behind them had Muffnut groaning before stalking away, yelling for his twin – Scruffnut – to give him a hand, and giving the two teens some privacy.

“Don’t go worrying about him on my account; I can take care of myself. Just go out there and have fun,” Jackson ordered, brandishing his staff and pointing it down the incline. His features then soften and he leaned over, kissing the auburn haired Viking on the cheek, hiding the action by whispering into his ear. “You did promise me you’d have fun.”

“I did promise, didn’t I? Well, I can’t go breaking promises now can I?”

Grinning, the Druid shook his head and took a step back, patting Toothless as the dragon nudged him in the side. “Nope, a future chief can’t go breaking promises and _you_ can’t be going breaking promises to _me_ or you’ll regret it. _Big_ _time_.”

-

Hiccup had just come from the best run of his life on the Snowboard course. He had done numerous twists, flips, jumps, grabs, slides and a number of combinations of such which at the end had the whole crowd cheering in sheer wonder and admiration. None of which matter since he was feeling like he was walking on air, the adrenaline running through his veins nowhere near gone from the sheer amount of fun he had during the run.

The Vikings around him kept clapping him on the back and congratulating him, telling him there was no way the Hairy Hooligan Tribe wouldn’t win with a run like that. He believed them too, right up until Hroar went descended down the slope, copying every twist, flip, jump, grab, slide and combination move for move. There was no stunt he failed to copy neither was there any additional moves thrown in to make his run even the slightest bit original leaving them with a problem; there was no way to determine who’s run was better.

“It’s a tie?” Hiccup spoke evenly despite the cold feeling seeping through his body.

“It’s an overall tie,” Snotlout absentmindedly corrected, jaw hanging opened as he looked at the scoreboard.

“What does that mean then?” Fishlegs asked, eyes darting round the growing restlessness of the crowd who were eying the opposing tribe with hostility.

“Tiebreaker!” the twins yelled, pumping their fists in the air.

“Which the Outcasts are one step ahead of us. There, look,” Astrid pointed at a bulky Viking at the top of the mountain, heading down the incline. His tricks weren’t as intricate as the ones Hiccup came up with and Hroar copied. However, they were enough to get the crowd of Outcast Vikings cheering and some of the Hooligan tribal members as well.

“One problem,” Tuffnut pulled their attention away from the Snowboarder halfway down the mountain. “We’re all done here-”

“-and none of us can get up there fast enough to make it in time for the next run,” Ruffnut took over their logically argument as the members of the Academy looked at one another, horror on their face.

Whirling around, Snotlout grabbed ahold of his cousin’s vest and pulled him forward to look him straight in the eyes. “Who’s all up there? _Who_ could possibly compete for _our tribe_?”;

“Well… uh… There’s Muffnut-”

The Gronckle rider shook his head. “He can’t do it, he’s the Winter Games Coordinator.”

“-and he was calling for Scruffnut-”

“Urg, she’s even less coordinated than Ruffnut!” the blond Viking with dreadlock bemoaned and surprisingly enough, his sister didn’t punch him but nodded her head in agreement.

“-Mulch-”

“Definitely not going to be of help there,” the shieldmaiden groaned as things began looking even bleaker and bleaker by the moment.

“-and… uh… _Jackson?!_ ’

“I don’t know, he might be able to snowboard, but will he be any good?” Ruffnut tapped her chin with a thoughtfully look on her face.

When their leader didn’t say anything and seemed to look passed them, Astrid took a step forward. “Hiccup?”

He didn’t answer verbally, just gulped and pointed at the mountain. As one, the group of Dragon Riders turned to see a blue figure complete a flip and land perfectly as Jackson speed on down the mountain. A fallen, snow covered tree – which Hiccup had used during his run – was no obstacle for the brunet who slide down its length, his snowboard traveling perpendicular along the tree while he was facing uphill. At the end of the length, the brunet flipped his body around and proceed to head for the makeshift ramp where he did an frontside inverted, planting his hand in the snowbank and holding the position for a split second before he was off again. He ended with a backward-flipping backside spin before slaloming back and forth to reduce his speed as he crossed the finish line.

It was silent before the Hairy Hooligan Tribe erupted in celebration. Jackson had won them the Winter Games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, Jackson Overland is officially mortal. Did the little crystal recap read clear to you guys? I ask, because in my head I know what's happening but I just want to make sure it came out clear to someone who isn't in my head (and if any of you are in my head, I politely ask that you leave. I don't want you getting lost and wonder somewhere that'll scar you for life).
> 
> Now, to bow out before people start banging at my door for hurting Jack one last time. In my defense, he's just too adorable not to. *Runs away and goes underground to finish the last chapter.*


	50. This is Berk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably be my longest author's notes just because it's the last chapter. (OMG! It's Done, It's Done, IT'S DONE! *jumps up and down*) So, let's begin.
> 
> Moonpuzzle: I'm glad you took my advice and went to watch Racing for the Gold and we all know how good of a sled Bob makes. Hroar was suppose to be suspicious and the spell comes from Merlin (the BBC TV show). Also, thank you for answering my question at the end of last chapter, you're the first one that did, so I'm glad it made sense to someone not me. And no, it's not wrong of you to think Jackson is mortal but for how long...somehow, you know me too well.
> 
> j99450: Yes, Slash!Toothless HiJacked the fic for a little while. I think he didn't think he was getting enough attention, that and he's showing his support for HiJack.
> 
> Genesisfreak: I am glad you think this story is dat gud to binge read it all the way through once more and please, when you're finish, write me a review from the perspective of someone reading it all the way through instead of a chapter at time (which goes for all of you out there who do the same ^.^). Please and thank you.
> 
> HearHearHear: Oh good, I thought I was the only one who liked hurting Jack just so others finally help him. But sorry, not more Hurt!Jack for this story. (I'm done, I'm done, I'm done *singing happily*)
> 
> Toffyy: I glad the sweet moments between Jackson and Hiccup were heartwarming, they were very difficult to get right while keeping the characters from becoming too out of character. Yeah, flashback was well written and understandable!
> 
> SesuTheBlack: The twins do cause enough destruction without the help of their siblings, but they need more help or some deterrents depending on the sibling. Also, you have the most vivid description of what you want to do with Dagur...I like it...
> 
> Isaias_Q: I thought about making Hroar a suitor, but then it didn't jive, so he became interested in Astrid instead and I'm sorry to say, once you read this chapter, it will over.
> 
> Vic: Not sure if I'll write a different HiJack story in the future, this story has taken me over two years to write and a year to post, but I do have a HiJack side story to this one in the works for the Race to the Edge.
> 
> Yuki_White: I'm pretty sure I read that, but at the time of beginning this story, there was a steady decline of HiJack stories out there. I'm glad there are still people who read and write them, but we're a minority now. Other fandoms with more stories, current updates, and a heck of a lot more writes keep seducing our members away till there will be nothing less. It's a sad reality.
> 
> ConfessedGeek: Yep, I celebrate Christmas, so thank you and I wish you a Merry Christmas too.
> 
> I wish all my readers, known and those lurking in the shadow, a very Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. If anyone wants to give me a present, I'll happily take reviews as my gift. Thanks to all of you who stuck with me since the beginning and to those who've joined in along the way, I hope you all enjoy the last chapter.

“You cheater! Get back here!”

“Not a chance!” Jackson yelled back as he vaulted over the snow-covered hole Astrid had ran into, literally, only to sink in with the first step. “This race is _mine_.”

“Not if I get to the village first!” the shieldmaiden’s voice shouted from behind him, quickly gaining as the Deadly Nadder rider shot passed him on a plank of wood.

“Now who’s the cheater?!” Laughter was his only reply but it didn’t deter the Druid and when he saw another piece of wood up ahead, a grin formed across his face. Reaching down, he scooped up the elongated plank while simultaneously using his other hand to secure his staff to his back. With a few more additional strides, the brunet tossed the piece of wood down and jumped on the Viking-style snowboard. After that, it was easy to catch up and surpass Astrid once more, winning their morning races for another day in a row.

“What’s that now, forty-nine to seventeen?” Jackson grinned as the blonde teenager finally made it to the village where the Druid – who had grown tired of waiting for her – was in the process of making a snowman. Currently, the brunet was rolling the last ball to make his snowman a head.

“Forty-nine to _eighteen_!” the shieldmaiden corrected taking her axe off her back and impaling it into the snowman’s body. Jackson tilted his head to the side with a frown and moved around the snowman, scrutinizing it was a critical eye before plopping the head on top. Withdrawing a few stones from his back pouch, he placed them in various positions, creating a face and took a few steps back when he was finished in order to get a better look.

A smirk graced his face and he turned back to the fuming blonde at his side, making a flourished gesture to the snowman. “May I present to you, Dagur the Deranged Snowman.”

There was a moment of silence before Astrid’s lips started to twitch upward and she ended up shaking her head. “That looks nothing like him-” walking forward, the shieldmaiden looked around, finding a few fallen sticks and twigs which she arranged so Snowman Dagur was pulling at nonexistent red hair “-now it looks like him.”

The quiet didn’t last long as the two burst out laughing and looked at each other with matching grins. “I’ll make Savage.”

“I’ll make Mildew.”

That was how Snotlout found them latter, in the middle of a battlefield of snowman Vikings being assisted by various children and teens who had readily joined in on the snow constructions when they had stumbled upon the two builders. A few Wyldfae – who no longer felt the need to hide with the Outcast Vikings gone back to their own island – were zipping about from one snow sculpture to the next, arranging faces for the snowmen or add stick limbs to the creations.

“Um… is that _me_?” the Monstrous Nightmare rider squeaked upon seeing a horrible representation of what had to be him since it was wearing his old helmet. How they had managed to get their hands on said helmet was a mystery to him.

“Uh-huh, it’s great, right?” Gustav cheerfully replied as he packed more snow around the snow Viking’s belly, making the Snotlout snowman look more like another heavier set Viking and less like the broad-shouldered brunet.

“No! What’s going on here?” the teenager demanded, glaring at the Monstrous Nightmare trainee as a little burnt orange light flew off his shoulder and around the snow representation of him. A tinkering noise from the fae had Snotlout scowling more when he recognized the sounds as Fawn’s laughter. “You know what? I don’t care, just point me towards Astrid.”

“She’s over there with Jackson,” Wartihog pointed towards the densest part of the snowman collection, not looking away from the Hookfang snowdragon he was working on with Speedifist and Clueless.

Grumbling, the Monstrous Nightmare rider stomped over in the indicated direction and stilled when he passed by a snowman with an axe to its midsection. Eying it, he shook his head and kept going speeding up when he spotted a flash of blonde hair.

“Hey, Astrid!”

Turning at the sound of her name, the shieldmaiden raised an eyebrow when she spotted him. “Snotlout, what do you want?”

“No need to be a grouch, just thought I’d let you know Fawn says the dragons will be returning today,” the Viking grunted kicking the Berserker snowman to his right and inadvertently caused it to topple over.

“Hey! I was still working on that,” Jackson pouted when he was revealed now the snowman was no longer in the way. Brown eyebrows furrowed together as amber eyes inspected his creations. “Actually, it looks better that way. Thanks Snotlout.”

“Jackson, did you hear? The dragons are migrating back today!” Astrid quickly informed the brunet – and the rest of the group of snowmakers, causing the children to cheer – as she tugged her axe out of the Mildew Snowman. She still had some unresolved anger issues with the man for breaking her father’s leg.

“Tis quite fitting, the Magical Creatures of Fire returning on the day which marks Winter’s End,” Periwinkle spoke from on top of the ice sculpture she had done of Jackson, which looked like the spitting image of him.

“It’s the Winter Solstice?” the Druid asked as amber eyes went wide and at the nod of the Dewdrop Faerie’s head. “By Odin! I forgot about Yule. It started today!”

Standing up, Jackson quickly dusted off the snow from his clothing and grabbed his staff implanted upright in the snow. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten about Yuletide, he had every intention of celebrating it in the traditional way his family had during his days in Hawthorne. However, he had incorrectly assumed that Snoggletog and Christmas were celebrated on the same day which led to him losing track of the days. In the back of his mind, he absentmindedly noted the last day of Yuletide coincided with Snoggletog.

“Do not vex yourself, the day is still young and there is time yet to properly celebrate Winter’s End and Summer’s Beginning,” the icy blue orb buzzed around the anxious brunet’s head before he could bolt.

Letting out a huge sigh of relief, Jackson nodded his head in agreement. “You’re right Periwinkle, no need to worry. It’s only the first day of Yuletide, I’ve got time still and I only need the candles right now, which Typhan should have.” Turning to look at the two Vikings – Astrid busy filling Snotlout in on what exactly Yuletide was – the Druid crewed at his bottom lip. “Listen, it’s great the dragons are coming back and I really want to be there when they do return, but I’ve got a few things to do right now, meet up with you guys later at the Academy?”

There wasn’t even any time between the end of his sentence and Snotlout snapping out. “As if we’re leaving you to do this alone, this is important to you.”

“Yeah, you’ve been there for us and now it’s our turn to be there for you,” Astrid agreed nodding her head and crossing her arms over her chest, showing she wasn’t going to be persuaded otherwise.

Jackson found himself blinking a few times before amber eyes soften. “Well, like I said, right now I just need to get the candles from Typhan to light one for the first day. Oh, but what about the tree hunting? Hmm… I guess, technically, the Snoggletog tree could be considered for the decorated tree… but-”

“But nothing,” the brunet Viking cut him off, “if you need to go tree hunting and decorating or whatever, we’ll go with you.”

“Hmm,” the Druid thought tapping his chin and looking up at the sky. “The candle lighting can wait until later then, but we’ll need to gather some decorations for the tree. There’s some smaller glass baubles at the smithy Gobber made as tests for the bigger ones I could use.”

“I can get some ribbon,” the shieldmaiden offer.

“I’ve got some old dragon’s teeth I’ve been collecting you could use,” Snotlout offered with a shrug.

“That’d be great!

“Okay, let’s gather the stuff and meet here when we’re finished,” Astrid commanded and the two brunets nodded their heads and each headed out.

Hanging back for a moment, Jackson looked to Periwinkle, Fawn, and a few of the other gathered fae. “Would you guys like to come with?”

The Wyldfae glanced at one another before shaking their heads, the icy blue orb speaking for the group. “These ones do appreciate the offer thou has extended, but we have our own celebration to attend to in Pixie Hollow.”

“Have fun then,” the Druid nodded his head and headed back to the village.

Effortlessly, he weaved through the numerous Vikings standing around and gossiping about the rumored arrival of the dragons. It made him shake his head at how fast news seemed to travel through the village during the winter compared to the warmer seasons. Then again, there wasn’t much to do with the potential superstorms of Devastating Winter lingering over their heads and no one was about to venture too far away from the village, risking being caught in one of them with the potential threat of death.

Arriving at the smithy shop, Jackson was disappointed Hiccup wasn’t around to rope into going with him. Still, he made quick work of gathering up the various smaller baubles Gobber had worked on to perfect his skill before moving on to the larger ones and placed them gently into a woven basket to keep them from breaking. Spotting a large bag on his workbench, the Druid debated with himself before collect it too and turned around, almost jumping out of his skin when he ran into a larger body.

“Typhan! You scared me,” the brunet sighed, taking a step back so he could look up at the tall Titan Constellation. “I was actually going to come see you later today.”

“To pick up the candles, yes I know. I had actually come here to offer my hut for your use, it would be better suited for you to leave the candles there to burn instead of elsewhere in this village,” Typhan offered and Jackson quickly picked up on the implications, the candles were potential fire hazards in the Viking’s wooden huts yet the Titan Constellation had some magical protections to keep the flames of the candles burning throughout Yuletide without catching his house on fire.

“I would very much appreciate that,” the Druid smiled having one more thing for Yuletide taken care of and one worry.

“That is not the only reason I have sought you out, young one,” the man said causing the teenager to tilt his head to the side and glance at the Guild Master with a perplexed look. “I heard it was tradition in your clan to give a gift during Yuletide.”

“How the…? The winds told you didn’t they?” the answer dawned on Jackson even before he could finish formulating his question. The gust of winds which swirled around him and the nod of the Titan Constellation’s head was an answer enough. “But I can’t accept. I don’t have anything for you.”

“Do not fret, young one, the food you cooked while staying with me was more than enough of a gift. I don’t think I’ve eaten that well since before those Pirates attacked me,” Typhan reassured the uncomfortable brunet as he reached into his long sleeves and withdrew a silver armlet and handed it to Jackson. Taking it, the amber eyes examined the delicately twisted silver piece of jewelry which would wrap around his arm twice with intricate spirals branching off from the bottom and top in a way he knew represented the winds. However, each of the spirals had little spikes branching out from the outer most rings, giving them the appearance of snowflakes.

“It’s beautiful,” the teenager felt a wave of emotion wash of him at his first Yuletide gift since he had fallen into the frozen pond. Setting down the bag and basket, Jackson pulled off his arm bracer and slipped the armlet onto his right bicep, quickly replacing the piece of armor. Admiring the silver piece of jewelry, he looked up and smiled at the older man. “Thank you Typhan.”

“You are most welcome, Jackson. Now you better be off, your friends are waiting for you,” which the winds confirmed with a nudged to get him going. A parting farewell to the Titan Constellation, the brunet collected the basket and bag and jogged off to meet up with Snotlout and Astrid. He was quite confused when he found not only those two Dragon Riders already there waiting for him but all of them.

“Uh… Hi? What are you all doing here?”

“I’m actually not sure why, do you know?” Ruffnut scratched her head and turned to Tuffnut who shrugged his shoulders.

“We’re going tree hunting,” Fishlegs informed the twins.

“Why? What did the trees ever do to us that we have to hunt them?” Barf’s rider asked rubbing his chin as he tried to think of what the tree could have possible done to them. “Oo-oo, can I be the one to hack it down?”

“Not going to be cutting any trees down, Tuff, we’re going to decorate one,” Jackson corrected the twins and held up the basket of baubles. The two looked a little put out but then brightened, quickly relieving the brunet of the basket and began pawing through it.

Glancing at one another, the twins gave their famous grins which had Fishlegs and Snotlout taking a step away from either side of them. “Let’s go then!”

“We should probably follow them,” Astrid sighed shifting the ribbon looped around her shoulder like rope higher up and followed the two other blondes. Fishlegs scurried off after the shieldmaiden and Snotlout tugging along behind, dragging a good size bag with a few dragons’ teeth poking through various holes in the material.

The Druid made to follow, but was held behind by Hiccup who was looking at him with a strange look. “Why didn’t you remind me? About Yuletide that is? I know you said it was important to you. Yet I had to find out from Astrid what was going on.”

Ducking his head, Jackson bit his bottom lip, feeling guilty for not searching for Hiccup after not finding him in the smithy in the first place. He had been so flustered with himself about forgetting about Yuletide, he forgot to include the other Dragon Riders when they had included him. The thought had him feeling even worse than he already was.

“Honestly? I forgot myself; it was only because of Periwinkle I remembered and then everything just was happening so fast. I didn’t mean to leave you – _any_ of you – out.”

“Well, if it wasn’t intentional, I guess I can let it slide,” the Night Fury rider grinned, leaning over and kissing him on the check. “Just tried to remember to tell me in the future then, yeah?”

“I will,” the brunet smiled softly and grabbed hold of Hiccup’s hand, pulling him along. “Come on; let’s go find the perfect tree.”

With that, the tree hunting began. Many were found and discarded for various reasons. The twins’ choice was nothing more than a leafless bush. Fishlegs’s tree was too tiny for them to decorate while Snotlout’s choice was way too big. The shieldmaiden, while didn’t pick out any trees, was the one to dismiss all of the others choices. Oddly enough, it was Toothless who found a perfect tree for the teenagers to decorate. From there, it became great fun in string the tree with ribbons and baubles and dragons’ teeth.  

Once done, the group took a step back and look at their work. “So, how does it look?”

“Great,” the Druid shot Hiccup a smile, “but it’s missing one thing.”

“What?” Fishlegs asked trying to see what was missing from the tree and completely missed the brunet picking up the discarded large bag the brunet had been carrying with him.

“Presents, of course,” Jackson grinned when all of the Dragon Riders looked at him incredulously.

“Presents, you didn’t say anything about presents,” Snotlout grumbled to Astrid in a not so quiet whisper.

“I didn’t know!”

“It’s alright, it’s my tradition, not yours. There’s no need to worry,” the amber eyed teenager put a crease to the growing uneasiness, “and since you’re all Vikings, I got you all weapons. Well, most of you,” Jackson amended pulling out the first gift from his bag and handing it to the heavyset Viking, “since you already have a weapon of your own to use Fishlegs, I made you a sheath for the Gronckle Iron sword. The fae enchanted it so only those you trust will be able to withdrawal any blade you put in it.”

“It’s so soft,” the Gronckle rider whispered running his fingers across the leather as Jackson moved on, pulling another gift out of the bag. This time, he pulled out the dagger Finn had given to him so long ago. It was only fitting that it should go to his niece.

“For Astrid, a dagger perfectly balanced,” the Druid said passing the sheathed blade over and pulled out a good size mace he had commissioned from Gobber, “and a mace for Snotlout.”

Swinging it around a few times, the Monstrous Nightmare rider grinned. “A good weapon for a great Viking.”

The next to be pulled out was a set of wooden pools with leather grips wrapped around their lengths and blades tied to one end. “Twin spears for the twins.”

“Awesome!” the twins cheered and immediately attempted to impale each other with the blade only for Astrid to step between the two and prevent any bodily injury.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” the shieldmaiden asked eying each twin to make sure they weren’t going to misbehave at the moment.

“Not really, no,” Jackson grinned at her, placing the empty bag down and began rummaging into the pouch behind him. His hand returned with a round, palm size object with a dome top that had a framework like design on the top. Pressing a small bottom, the dome flipped open to reveal the object to be a compass. “Last, but not least, a compass for Hiccup.”

“A compass?” the Head of the Academy asked, taking the object from him and watched as the needle in the middle spun around on its own accord.

Blushing, the Druid ducked his head. “Uh… it’s a special compass, enchanted by the Villas, hamadryads, and winds – to represent water, earth, and air – so you will never get lost. Actually, there’s something you should all know.”

“What?” Snotlout asked hefting the mace from one hand to the next, trying to get a good feel for the weight of it.

“Your weapons? They’ve all been begotten in the breath of a dragon,” Jackson rubbed the back of his head with the hand not holding his staff.

Fishlegs almost dropped his new sheath when his head shot up, green eyes staring wide eyed at the brunet. “What? Really? You actually went through with it? Why didn’t you tell me, I’d have liked to watch.”

Amber eyes rolled and shook his head. “Because I wanted it to be a surprise,” not to mention very few dragons every actually allowed their magic to flow into any kind of weapons and it had taken a lot of effort for him to convince the dragons to do so, “and I did find out that the different species of dragons does affect the weapons inherited abilities.”

“Really, how so?” the heavyset Viking bounced up and down.

“Astrid, your dagger, when thrown will never leave your hand yet a likeness of the blade will embed itself where you aimed before fading from existence. A deviation of Stormfly’s spine shot I assume. The mace you’re holding, Snotlout, will release a blast of wind similar to Hookfang’s wind blast when it connects with something. In other words, be careful with them, the dragons might just very well eat me if you abuse their gifts,” Jackson warned half teasing, half serious while Toothless nodded his head in agreement behind him.

“We’ll be careful with them, we promise,” Astrid answered for the group, “won’t we?” The sharp growl had the twins and Snotlout nodding their heads in agreement. “Good.”

“Hey, what about ours?” Tuffnut asked waving his spear around in the air. A sudden jolt of lightning darted out from the tip of the blade and jumped towards the matching spear in his sister’s hand where it dissipated harmlessly.

“Ruff, Tuff there was some problems with begotten your spears in the breath of Barf and Blech since Zippleback gas is a little touchy. So, instead I had some help in enchanting the spears to act in conjunction with each other, creating a bolt of lightning which will travel from one spear tip to the other,” the Druid smiled knowingly, not wanting to inform them their ancestor had been the one to enchant the weapons at his requested. Well, technically, it had been Mr. Vadderung asking. However, Jackson had asked the man to ask the god for his assistance, so in the end, he had asked the Thorstons’ ancestor for assistance.

“Awesome,” the twins cheered.

They stay for a little bit longer, examining each other’s gifts and had a good time before rumbling stomachs cried out for food. None of them had eaten since the morning meal served in the Great Hall and Jackson was once more drafted into cooking for them. He wasn’t alone in the draft, since Hiccup’s hut was picked to convene at. Once more, the Druid was held back by a hand around his arm whilst the Dragon Riders departed.

“Uh… Jackson,” Hiccup spoke only when the others had left, fumbling around with his vest pocket. “I was going to give you this during Snoggletog, but umm… here.”

Trembling hands shoved something small into his palm. Looking down, amber eyes found a leather cord with a small silver charm no bigger than his crystal tied to the end. What had Jackson sucking in a gulp of air was the fact he was holding a snowflake and no ordinary snowflake either. This snowflake was a perfect replica of the first snowflake he had ever created as Jack Frost, which resembled the snowflakes in the armlet he wore to some degree.

“I uh… Bucket helped me come up with the idea,” the chief’s son rubbed the back of his neck, vivid green eyes darting to the side to avoid making eye contact with the brunet who had yet to say anything, “and uh… I made it with the extra silver I had left over from making Typhan the armlet-”

Jackson quickly cut the Dragon Rider off, amber eyes going wide at the unintentional revelation. “You made the armlet too?”

“Well, yeah, but I uh… didn’t know he was giving it to you and umm-” Hiccup was interrupted yet again by the brunet, this time by Jackson’s lips on his own.

“They’re both beautiful, thank you,” Jackson whispered tying the charm onto his staff right next to his crystal and Toothless’s scale. “I’ll treasure them. Always.”

* * *

“One year.”

“Over a year.”

“Do you regret any of it?”

There was a bit of a silent stretch. “At first? Yes. Later? I wasn’t sure what to think. I was confused about who I thought I should be and who I was.”

“And now?”

A smile graced Jackson’s lips as he looked down the cliff at the ocean below his dangling feet. “I know exactly who I am.”

“And who’s that?”

“You know.”

“Humor an old man.”

“Alright _Old Man_ ,” the brunet grinned, taking that as permission to finally call the man by his nickname he had given the blond – in the future when he had storm cloud colored hair – man as he stood up to his full height and twirled his staff around his fingers before slamming the butt against the ground. “I’m Jackson Overland, fifteen winters old, descendant of the Taliesin clan, future Guardian of Fun: Jack Frost with over three hundred years of knowledge to rely upon, up-and-coming sorcerer, member of Berk’s Dragon Training Academy.”

“Druid of Berk,” Bucket added presenting Jackson a silver pin the size of his palm with a motif consisting of three interlocking spirals extending clockwise from the center.

It was a triskele. A revered symbol which had over time become an emblem Druid wore to identify themselves to one another. However, what was so special about this triskele was that engraved in the metal. It was hard at first to tell what was etched in the silver with so much of the image missing, but amber eyes could imagine and draw in the missing lines between the spirals to form the Hairy Hooligan Tribal crest.

“Happy Yuletide, Jackson.”

“Thank you,” the teenager threw himself at the taller man, hugging him tightly. Releasing his hold on Bucket, the Druid took the pin and fastened it to his leg pouch before reaching into the pocket and producing a wooden goblet he had painstakingly carved from Rowan wood with a wolf’s head protruding slightly out of the side. He presented the smaller than average cup to the Viking with a smile on his face. “Happy Yuletide, Mr. Vadderung.”

“Excellent craftsman work,” the blond man smiled and looked out to the ocean where a mass of dark shadows were moving towards the island. “It looks like you’ll be needed soon.”

Glancing behind him, Jackson smiled as he caught sight of Toothless helping usher the dragons of Berk back home for the holidays. “It looks like it, be seeing you. Later Old Man!”

With that the brunet took a few steps back and timed it just right before running towards the cliffs, using his staff to launch himself over the edge into open air. The winds helped propel him the extra few inches he need to vault off of Grump – saying a quick hello to the Boulder-class dragon – and tumble across the Typhoomerang’s massive wings, pausing long enough to gain his bearings on Torch’s back. Turning, Jackson ran across the orange dragon’s back, down his tail, and dove off.

As he got closer and closer to the ocean, amber eyes watched the waters darkened before a large blue head surfaced and Scauldy sprayed a blast of heated water – not too hot thankfully – at his descending form. Twisting in air so the water hit his back and hurled him back into the air where Firefang flicked his tail to the side for the Druid to catch. Another whip of the Monstrous Nightmare’s tail – this time directing upwards – had Jackson flying further up into the sky where he came face to face with Skully. The Boneknapper blinked a few times as the brunet became weightless yet before gravity could take hold, the Mystery-class dragon released a loud roar which had him sailing backwards.

Thankfully, Flystorm swooped down and wrapped his talons around the end of the offered staff. The next part had to be timed just right and with a shout for the Deadly Nadder to release him, the Druid fell all of twenty feet before he hooked his staff to Meatlug’s tail. He waited a few more seconds before nudging the staff free and falling onto Barf’s head where he skidded down the Hideous Zippleback’s long neck and ran down his body, flipping off the dragon’s tail. A wind blast from Hookfang had him higher up in the air where he could grab hold of Stormfly’s tail and held on tight until she flew right over the Night Fury.

The Deadly Nadder lowered her tail, allowing Jackson to slide off and onto Toothless’s back, where he latched onto Hiccup. “Hi Hiccup!”

“What the-? How the-? _We’re in the middle of the ocean! How’d you get out here?_ ” the Dragon Rider sputtered, whipping his head around to stare at the Druid – who was currently leaning over to looked at the boat carrying the hatchlings sailing below the Night Fury – with wide green eyes.

“You really want to know?” the brunet asked as a giant grin split his face in two. “I’ll show you.”

With that simple statement, Jackson tilted his weight to the side and slipped off of the Night Fury’s back much to the alarm of both dragon and rider. Summersaulting on the way down – even as Hiccup and Toothless tried to speed up to catch him – the brunet landed feet first on Fanghook’s back where he ran up the Monstrous Nightmare’s back and jumped to grab hold of Neðan’s spiked tail with his staff. He proceeded to make his way back to Berk in a similar fashion as he had done to reach Hiccup, laughing joyously as Toothless weaved his way around the various dragons trying to catch up to the brunet.

-

_“This is Berk. We've got ice, we've got snow and we've got more ice. But we've also got dragons. We train them-”_

Stormfly sniffed the air before sending out a single spine shot to break one of the various plate lined up around the Academy, shattering it to pieces while revealing Sneaky. Astrid shouted in delight at the Deadly Nadder’s tracking skills and proceeded to feed both dragons a piece of chicken as reward for a job well done. Typhan politely clapped his hands before throwing a handful of plates size rings up into the air in a widespread circle and signaled to Firefang. The dragon zipped up into the air and caught ever single rings on his horns. The shieldmaiden could only gawk at the tight turns and maneuverability it had taken for the Monstrous Nightmare to complete such a feat.

_“-learn from them-”_

Fishlegs was busy at work recording the new information they had learned about the dragons into _The Book of Dragons_ near the Snoggletog tree while Terrorthi, Snuffnut, and Gustav enthusiastically tried to help by providing him everything they had gain from being partnered up with their respected dragon species. In doing so, the children kept disturbing the Boulder-class dragon trying to sleep. However, they soon were sidetracked by Iggy stealing Fanghook’s fish and taking off with it. The Monstrous Nightmare in turn took off after the Terrible Terror with Neðan and Torch hot on his tail and their riders running after them. Chuckling, the Gronckle rider hid the picture of a fish under the book and hugged Meatlug when she nudged him in the side.

_“-protect them-”_

Mulch coed softly to Scauldy, keeping the Titan-class dragon’s attention on him as Bucket carefully worked to pull the spear out of her wing. The usually calm and collect man grumbling curses the whole time at the idiot who had dared to stab her. With one final tug, the spear came out and the blond Viking hurried to cover it with some cloth to crease the flow of blood. A few seconds of pressure – and an unnoticeable glow of his hand – Bucket pulled the cloth away to reveal a much smaller wound.

_“-and they protect us. Sometimes from ourselves. -”_

Ruffnut and Tuffnut were busy arguing with Huffnut and Gruffnut, about what, none of them remembered. However, when it started to come to physical blows, their dragons stepped in. Barf and Belch picking up the younger Thorstons and holding them away from their older siblings while Head and Butt sat on their helmets, annoyingly singing their displeasure. Skully took it upon himself to flatten his rider with his tail – keeping him pinned – as Flystorm wrapped her wings around the Commander, preventing her from advancing on the twins.

_“-One thing's for sure. We wouldn't trade this for anything. -”_

Jackson was busy chasing after Toothless who had the Druid’s staff in his mouth. Yet, whenever he was close to snatching it back, the Night Fury would toss the gnarled piece of wood into the air where Sharpshot would swoop down and grab hold of it, frantically flapping his wings as he flew in the opposite direction. Gobber looked up from nudging Grump with his foot – in an attempt to get the Boulder-class dragon to restart the forge’s fire – and shook his head as he watched the brunet dashing after the green Terrible Terror, but knew not to interfere going on the delightful laughter coming from Jackson; especially when the teenager turned, only to end up running straight into Hiccup, knocking them both over. The blush from both of their faces could be seen by all who cared to look.

_“-Would you?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes the end of Soul of a Druid. 
> 
> Thank you once more for sticking with me during this massive undertaking and for those who've pointed out my mistakes (I never did get a beta, so sorry about the spelling/grammar errors). In the end, this leg of the journey is complete while the side story I promised you won't come out until after the New Year, so do keep a look out for that.
> 
> For those of you who feel up to it, please answer any one (or all) of the following in your reviews (you really don't have to, but as a writer, I'm curious to know):  
> -Favorite Scene/Chapter  
> -Favorite Interaction between Jack and a Viking who is not Hiccup  
> -Least Favorite Scene/Chapter (and why, I need to know to make myself a better writer)  
> -Least Favorite Interaction between Jack and a Viking who is not Dagur  
> -Overall impression of this story (Either a descriptive answer or how many Stars out of Five will do)
> 
> And for those of you who feel really ambitious:
> 
> -List how many references from other fandoms (subtle or blatantly expressed) you can find in Soul of a Druid
> 
> Once more, thank you all for reading and pushing finish this massive undertaking. Feel free to look at my other stories and for those lurker, keep lurking.
> 
> ~SilverlySilence


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